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THE     BERBER; 


THE    MOUNTAINEER    OF    THE   ATLAS 


A  TALE  OF  MOROCCO. 


THE    BEEBEK; 


OR     THE 


MOUNTAINEER   OF   THE   ATLAS 


A   TALE   OF   MOEOCCO. 


BY 


WILLIAM    STARBUCK   MAYO,   M.  D. 


AUTHOR   OF    KALOOLAH,    fcc.    fee. 


N  E  TV  -  Y  O  R  K  : 
GEO.    P.    PUTNAM,    155    BROADWAY. 

LONDON : 
RICHARD    BESTLEY,    NEW    BURLINGTON-STREET. 

1850. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1850,  by 
WILLIAM  STARBUCK  MAYO,  in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court 
for  the  Southern  District  of  New-York. 


S  tereotypcd  and  Printed 

BY  D.   FANSHAW, 

35  Ann,  corner  of  Nassau-st. 


TO 


WILLIAM   B.   HODG-SON,  ESQ. 

SIR: 

To  no  one  could  a  work,  bearing  the  title  of 
"The  Berber,"  be  more  appropriately  inscribed  than 
to  yourself,  for  no  one  has  done  more  to  elucidate  the 
ethnography  of  that  mysterious  and  interesting  people. 
Your  translation  of  a  portion  of  the  Gospels  into  the 
Berber  tongue ;  your  vocabularies  of  words  and  phra 
ses  ;  your  valuable  essays  in  relation  to  the  divisions, 
history,  and  customs  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  Atlas — 
the  results  of  your  personal  observations  while  en 
gaged  in  the  diplomatic  services  of  the  United  States 
at  Algiers  and  Tunis — have  been  noticed  in  the  most 
flattering  terms  by  Pritchard,  and  other  distinguished 
ethnographers.  Of  course  my  testimony  can  add 
nothing  to  the  estimate  placed  upon  your  labors  by 

M46I.87 


6  DEDICATION. 

those  best  qualified  to  judge ;  but  it  is  a  gratification 
to  me  to  acknowledge  my  indebtedness,  and  to  ex 
press  the  feelings  of  personal  friendship  and  con 
sideration  with  which  I  am, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


PKEFACE. 


The  principal  object  of  the  author,  in  the  following  pages,  has 
been  to  tell  an  agreeable  story  in  an  agreeable  way.  In  doing  so, 
however,  an  eye  has  been  had  to  the  illustration  of  Moorish 
manners,  customs,  history  and  geography — to  the  exemplification  of 
Moorish  life  as  it  actually  is  in  Barbary  in  the  present  day,  and 
not  as  it  usually  appears  amid  the  vague  and  poetic  glamour  of 
the  common  Moorish  romance.  It  has  also  been  an  object  to 
introduce  to  the  acquaintance  of  the  reader  a  people  who  have 
played  a  most  important  part  in  the  world's  history,  but  of  whom 
very  few  educated  people  know  anything  more  than  the  name. 

A  few  orthographical  liberties  may,  perhaps,  be  noticed  in  the 
spelling  of  proper  names  and  titles ;  but  the  orthography  of 
Arabic  words  is  so  perfectly  arbitrary,  and  the  authorities  so 


8  PREFACE. 

widely   discrepant,  that  perhaps   no   apology  is  necessary  for  any 
oddities  of  the  kind. 

In  relation  to  the  historical  incidents  introduced  or  alluded  to, 
however  strange  and  incredible  they  may  seem  to  readers  living 
in  a  religious,  political,  and  social  state,  so  widely  different,  the 
author  has  only  to  say  that  they  are  well  authenticated,  and  that 
there  can  be  no  question  of  their  truth. 


THE    BERBER. 

A    TALE     OF    MOROCCO 

*          .      .  *  - 

CHAPTER    I. 


NEAR  the  banks  of  the  Guadalete,  and  not  far  from  the 
shore,  where  by  several  mouths  the  shallow  stream  pours  its 
waters  into  the  beautiful  bay  of  Cadiz,  stood,  some  hundred 
and  fifty  years  since,  the  quinta  or  casa  di  campo  of  Don  Pedro 
de  Estivan.  The  building  itself  was  one  of  but  little  preten 
sion,  either  as  to  size  or  architectural  merit ;  but  the  grounds 
were  extensive — stretching,  with  a  magnificent  sweep,  from  the 
suburbs  of  Puerto  Santa  Maria  down  to  the  shore  of  the  bay 
— the  terraced  gardens  overlooking  the  rippling  surf,  being 
separated  from  the  beach  by  a  rampart  merely  of  large  stones, 
surmounted  by  a  marble  balustrade. 

It  was  upon  this  balustrade — at  the  close  of  one  of  those 
glowing  but  cool  and  balmy  summer  days,  for  which  the  cli 
mate  of  Andalusia  is  so  famous — that  a  lady  leaned,  gazing 
with  pensive  air  upon  the  golden  waters.  Her  dark  eyes,  bor 
dered  by  long  lashes  and  shadowed  by  jetty  brows  arched  and 
sharply  defined,  floated  in  lustrous  languor  over  the  glorious 

1* 


10  THE     BERBER. 

scene.  Her  black  hair  was  arranged  in  festoons  and  secured 
by  a  large  comb  of  tortoise  shell  and  gold.  One  jewelled  hand 
confined  the  folds  of  her  mantilla  beneath  her  chin,  the  other, 
holding  the  closed  fan  rested  in  careless  grace  upon  the  marble. 
Her  foot — that  tiny,  plump,  playful  foot,  for  which  the  Gadi- 
tana*  ever  has  been,  and  ever  will  be,  world  renowned — was 
partially  revealed  from  beneath  the  drapery  of  her  basquina, 
as  it  was  raised  upon  the  narrow  banquette  of  the  balustrade. 
Her  form  was  of  the  medium  height,  and  although  well 
rounded  ajld.  full,  was  far  from  being  heavy.  Her  attitude 
vwas  OKe'^f  "pbrfeel' repose;  but  there  was  a  wavy  undulatory 
1l&it'i&l?6uV  it  delicious  in  itself,  but  perfectly  enchanting  in  its 
promise  of  mobile  grace.  It  seemed  as  if  the  very  atmos 
phere  was  anxious  to  anticipate  her  will,  and  held  itself  in  con 
scious  readiness  to  yield  to  the  slightest  indication  of  motion. 
Oh !  it  was  a  beautiful  picture, — that  fair,  young  Spanish 
girl  as  she  stood  thus  leaning  on  the  marble,  beneath  a  canopy 
of  vines,  and  gazing  with  pensive  mien  upon  the  sandy  beach, 
the  rippling  water,  and  in  the  distance  the  glittering  walls  and 
towers  of  the  renowned  city  of  Hercules  rising  from  out  the 
bosom  of  the  ocean.  It  was  a  beautiful  picture  as  she  stood 
thus  gazing  at  the  numerous  lateen  craft  that  dotted  the  sur 
face  of  the  bay,  the  tall  galleons  and  men-of-war  of  the  Ca- 
raca  and  the  inner  roadstead,  the  numerous  sails  that  crowded 
the  seaward  passage  between  Rota  and  Point  Sabastian,  and, 
in  particular,  one  small  boat,  rowed  by  a  single  oarsman,  that 
for  an  hour  and  more  had  been  slowly  approaching  the  bar  of 
the  Guadalete. 

*  So  called  from  Gades,  the  ancient  name  of  Cadiz. 


A      TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  11 

A  beautiful  picture  it  was — one  of  unrivalled  loveliness  a 
spectator  would  have  been  tempted  to  say — and  yet  at  that 
very  moment,  in  the  neighboring  dominions  of  the  Moor,  might 
have  been  seen  one  equally  beautiful  and  strikingly  similar. 
Let  us  flit  in  imagination  for  one  moment,  by  the  bold  head 
land  of  Trafalgar,  across  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar,  and  over  the 
hills  and  valleys  of  Mogreb  el  Acsa,  or  "  the  extreme  west,"  as 
the  Arabs  call  the  kingdom  of  Fez,  until  we  stand  upon  the 
terraced  roofs  of  Mequinez,  the  favorite  city  of  the  famous 
Muley  Ismael,  the  then  reigning  sovereign  of  Morocco.  It 
was  at  that  very  hour  of  that  very  summers  afternoon :  the 
sun  was  just  sinking  to  his  ocean  bed  beyond  the  broad  and 
beautiful  plain  of  Marmora,  tinging  with  his  level  beams  the 
peaks  of  the  Djebel  Tedla,  and  lighting  up  the  silvery  reach 
of  the  Ordom  as  it  wound  its  way  through  the  delicious  valley 
of  Mequinez.  The  first  chaunt  of  the  Mueddens  floated  over 
the  thronged  city  on  the  evening  breeze,  and  instantly  were 
hushed  the  noises  that  came  up  from  the  broad  market-places, 
and  the  narrow  streets — a  whole  city  was  at  prayer ! 

A  young  girl  rose  from  a  pile  of  cushions  in  a  corner  of  the 
parapet  surrounding  the  flat  roof  of  a  house  that  stood  with 
in  a  few  steps  of  the  vast  inclosure  designated  as  the  "  Palace 
of  the  Sultan."  With  a  gesture  of  impatience  she  tossed  the 
guitar  upon  which  she  had  been  playing  from  her,  and  leaned 
upon  an  angle  of  the  railing  that  encircled  the  square  court. 
Her  figure,  tall  and  light,  but  well  rounded,  was  finely  set 
off  by  a  tightly  fitting  caftan  or  vest  of  green  velvet  worked 
with  gold  thread,  from  beneath  which  fell  a  short  skirt  of  linen. 
Her  arms  were  bare  nearly  to  the  shoulder,  save  three  or  four 


12  THE     BERBER. 

bracelets  of  emeralds  and  pearls.  Around  each  delicate  and 
nicely  turned  ankle,  the  proportions  of  which  were  unconcealed 
by  other  covering,  there  were  clasped  broad  anklets  of  massive 
silver.  Her  feet  were  thrust  carelessly  into  wide  slippers  of 
worked  cordovan,  from  which  at  times  they  were  half  withdrawn, 
as  if  to  afford  a  glimpse  of  what  they  would  have  been  in  the 
nicely  fitting  shoe  of  the  Gaditana.  Her  hair  was  braided  and 
secured  by  a  bandeau  of  silk  and  gold.  Her  eyes,  dark  and 
lustrous  as  hers  of  Cadiz,  were  relieved  by  even  longer  lashes 
and  a  more  finely  drawn  eyebrow.  A  continuation  of  the  eye 
brow,  however,  by  a  dark  line  drawn  in  a  curve  upon  the  tem 
ples,  would  have  produced  upon  a  Christian  eye  a  somewhat 
questionable  effect,  and  in  conjunction  with  a  brilliant  circle  of 
red  paint  upon  either  cheek  would,  perhaps,  have  detracted 
slightly  from  the  influence  of  a  broad,  smooth  brow,  a  delicate 
aquiline  nose,  a  mouth  small  and  of  exquisite  shape,  and  of 
capabilities  fully  corresponding  to  the  eye  in  the  way  of  pas 
sion  and  affection,  and  a  chin  deeply  dimpled  and  curved  to 
the  most  perfect  oval. 

The  maiden  gazes  for  a  moment  down  into  the  court  below, 
where  several  female  slaves  are  hurrying  to  and  fro,  scolding 
and  jostling  each  other  as  they  proceed  in  their  preparations 
for  the  evening  meal.  Her  short  pouting  lip  curls  with  an  ex 
pression  of  contempt,  and  turning,  her  eye  sweeps  over  the 
broad  scene — the  wide  expanse  of  whitewashed  roofs,  from 
which  tower  up  the  glittering  minarets  of  the  mosques — the 
lofty  peaks  and  broad  slopes  of  the  Atlas,  until  reaching  the 
north  it  becomes  fixed  in  vacancy.  Suddenly  an  expression 
.of  sternness  comes  over  those  delicate  features,  and  then  a  sigh 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO. 


13 


undulates  the  palpitating  outline  of  her  bosom.  The  maiden 
is  dreaming  of  the  traditionary  glories  of  Andalusia.  In  fancy 
she  visits  the  house  of  her  ancestors ;  the  very  key  of  which, 
preserved  with  reverential  care,  hangs  in  the  court  below.  The 
halls  and  fountains  of  the  Alhambra  rise  upon  her  imagination  ; 
she  sees  the  battle-field  by  the  banks  of  the  Guadalete,  where 
base  Roderick  yielded  up  his  kingdom  to  the  fiery  valor  of 
Tank  and  his  followers ;  she  sees  the  gardens  of  Seville,  and 
the  mosques,  and  palaces,  and  bridges,  and  baths  of  Cordova 
and  Toledo,  and  soft,  sunny  Xerez ;  she  hears  the  mingled 
sounds  of  the  tournament  and  the  bull-fight— the  shouts  of 
the  populace — the  tramp  of  the  war-steed — the  clangor  of 
drum  and  cymbal,  and  the  clash  of  buckler  and  spear.  She 
hears  the  soft  tones  of  rebec  and  guitar  mingled  with  the 
sound  of  joyous  voices, — and  oh !  how  her  heart  swells,  and 
her  form  dilates,  and  her  eye  flashes,  as  she  catches  the 
strains  of  an  old  ballad  : 

"Rise  up!     Rise  up,  Xaripha  ! 

Lay  your  golden  cushion  down  ; 
Rise  up  !  come  to  the  window, 

And  gaze  with  all  the  town. 
From  gay  guitar  and  violin 

The  silver  notes  are  flowing, 
And  the  lovely  lute  doth  speak  between 

The  trumpets  lordly  blowing: 
And  banners  bright,  from  lattice  light, 

Are  waving  everywhere, 
Artd  the  tall  plume  of  Andallah 

Floats  proudly  in  the  air." 

Oh.  it  was  a  beautiful  picture !  as  she  stood  thus  gazing 
and  dreaming — that  fair,  young  Moorish  maiden,  with  her  pas- 


14  THE     BERBER. 

sionate  eye  and  quivering  lip — it  was  a  beautiful  picture ;  but 
what  has  it  to  do  with  the  similar  picture  of  the  lovely  Gadi- 
tana  on  the  shore  of  the  bay  of  Cadiz  ?  Much — much  that 
neither  of  those  graceful  beings  could  have  dreamed  of  at  the 
time,  as  they  stood  thus  unknown  to  each  other,  ignorant  of 
each  other's  existence  even,  but  intimately  connected  in  the 
commingling  destinies  of  their  future  lives. 

A  beautiful  picture  it  was,  but  we  may  not  dwell  on  it 
at  the  present  moment — the  exigencies  of  our  story  demand 
ing  a  return  to  the  garden  on  the  banks  of  the  Guadalete. 

The  eye  of  the  Gaditana  was  steadily  watching  the  boat 
with  its  single  oarsman  that  was  slowly  making  its  way  from 
Cadiz,  towards  the  entrance  of  the  river.  As  it  came  closer, 
although  still  too  distant  to  permit  a  recognition  of  the  boat 
man's  features,  her  interest  in  his  movements  seemed  to 
deepen,  until  her  attention  became  so  concentrated  that  she 
scarcely  heard  her  name  as  it  was  shouted  three  or  four 
times  in  a  clear  girlish  voice  amid  the  labyrinth  of  vines. 

"  Isabel !  Isabel !  where  are  you  ?  Where  have  you  hidden 
yourself!"  And  a  tall  and  lithesome  figure  bounded  into  sight, 
and  tripped  adown  the  arbor  with  a  step  in  which  was  mingled 
an  uncommon  degree  of  lightness  and  elasticity  with  the  usual 
grace  of  the  Andaluza.  "  See,  Isabel,  I  have  finished  the  last 
leaf  of  my  rose,"  and  the  young  girl  held  out  a  piece  of  em 
broidery  such  as  still,  in  the  present  day,  frequently  occupies 
the  attention  of  the  Spanish  fair.  "  Congratulate  your  Juanita, 
sister  dear,  upon  finishing  such  a  precious  piece  of  work ! 
Come,  don't  you  admire  it." 

"I  do,"  replied  the  . elder  sister,  " despite  the  long  thorns 


AT A LEOF     MOROCCO.  15 

with  which  you  have  seen  fit  to  environ  your  flower.     How 
could  you  have  drawn  them  so  out  of  all  proportion." 

"  Oh,  partly  accident,  and  partly  design,"  returned  Juanita. 
*  You  see,  Isabel  dear,  this  rose  is  emblematical — it  is  not  one 
of  our  common  garden  roses — it  is  one  of  the  roses  of  life, 
and  those  you  know  have  monstrous  long  thorns." 

"Indeed,  Juanita,  and  how  came  you  to  know  anything 
of  the  thorns  on  the  roses  of  life  ?  " 

"  Oh,  did  not  Father  Padilla  tell  us  all  about  them  last 
Sunday — how  long  they  were,  and  how  sharp?  And  have  we 
not  better  authority  for  them  than  that  in  the  poets  and  ro 
mancers  ?  Oh,  there  is  not  a  page  of  Dante  and  Tasso,  where 
glows  a  rose,  beneath  which  you  cannot  see  the  thorns — and 
long  ones  too.  Besides,  Isabel,  you  forget  that  I  am  nearly 
sixteen.  I  have  my  experiences." 

"  You,  Juanita !"  exclaimed  the  elder  sister  with  a  sigh, 
as  she  turned  her  eyes  once  more  to  the  boat  that  was  now 
within  a  few  yards  of  the  shore. 

'•Yes,  I 1  may  not    have  been   pricked  very  deeply 

as  yet  by  the  thorns  of  life,  but  can  one  wound  your  heart, 
dearest  Isabel,  without  my  feeling  it  too  f ' 

The  young  girl  threw  her  arms  tenderly  about  the  elder 
sister,  and  both  leaned  in  silence  upon  the  marble. 

The  two  sisters  closely  resembled  each  other,  but  to  an 
observant  eye  there  was  a  marked  difference  in  the  form  and 
expression  of  their  features,  clearly  indicating  a  corresponding 
difference  of  character  and  mental  power.  The  younger  was 
the  taller  of  the  two,  and  her  figure,  though  less  round  and 
full,  had  more  buoyancy  and  apparent  strength  and  agility. 


16  THE      BERBER. 

Her  forehead  was  higher  and  broader,  her  nostril  more  arched 
and  prominent,  and  her  lip  somewhat  thinner  and  more  sharply 
defined.  Hers  was  a  face  that  even  in  repose  beamed  with  an 
expression  of  intellect,  passion  and  will,  while  that  of  her 
sister  was  chiefly  remarkable  for  its  air  of  yielding  delicacy 
and  affection.  Even  the  very  attitudes  in  which  they  stood 
gave  token  of  the  superior  energy  of  the  younger.  With  her 
arms  thrown  round  the  eminently  feminine  form  of  her  elder 
sister,  the  graceful  Juanita  seemed  not  more  disposed  to  caress 
than  to  protect. 

"  Dearest  Isabel,"  resumed  the  young  girl,  "  why  do  you 
let  them  make  you  so  miserable  ?" 

"  How  can  I  help  it,  Juanita  ?  Is  not  the  prospect  of  being 
forced  into  a  marriage  with  any  one  enough  to  make  me  mi 
serable — but  with  our  cousin  Orsolo  ! — horrible  !" 

"  So  horrible,"  replied  Juanita,  "  that  I  would  refuse  to  con 
template  it.  I  would  soon  take  means  to  put  an  end  to  such  a 
prospect." 

"  How  1  in  what  manner  f  demanded  her  sister. 

"  I  would  at  once  assert  my  determination  never  to  submit 
to  such  a  profanation — such  a  sacrilege,"  exclaimed  the  young 
girl,  drawing  up  her  slight  figure  to  its  full  height. 

"  And  pass  the  rest  of  your  days  in  a  convent,"  replied 
Isabel. 

"  I  would  see  Don  Diego  de  Orsolo  himself,"  returned  Ju 
anita.  "  I  would  tell  him  that  I  loved  him  not :  that  I  could 
not  marry  him." 

"  'T  would  be  of  no  avail,"  responded  Isabel.  "  Don  Diego 
has  no  magnanimity — np  generosity.  He  deems  me  the  heir 


A     TALE     OF    MOROCCO.  17 

of  my  aunt's  estates  of  Ronda  Fronta.  He  would  not  perse 
cute  me  so,  did  he  think  I  should  inherit  only  the  slender  for 
tunes  of  the  Estivans.  "Tis  money  that  he  wants  as  much  or 
more  than  my  love." 

"  I  would  tell  him  then,"  exclaimed  Juanita — her  black  eye 
flashing,  and  her  arched  nostril  dilating,  and  her  short  lip  qui 
vering  with  passion — "  I  would  tell  him  that  I  hated — that  I 
despised  In'm.  I  would  tell  him  the  story  over  again,  if  he 
has  forgotten  it,  of  one  of  our  family — Maria  of  the  dagger 
— who  stabbed  herself  at  the  altar. — I  would  tell  him  that, 
like  hers,  rny  dagger  should  gleam,  were  it  in  the  eyes  of  all 
the  priests  and  nobles  of  Spain;  but  that,  instead  of  my 
bosom,  it  should  find  a  fitter  sheath  in  his  own  dastard 
heart. — I  would  dare  him  to  marry  me !" 

"  Hush !  hush !  Juanita — you  frighten  me,"  exclaimed 
Isabel,  recoiling  before  the  excited  looks  and  convulsive  grasp 
of  her  sister ;  "  you  might  drive  him  away :  for  Don  Diego 
is  a  coward.  But  think  of  the  alternative — a  convent  foi 
life."— 

"  Marry  then  your  English  lover,  and  leave  country  and 
friends.  Beautiful  as  this  is,  there  must  surely  be  other  scenes 
as  fair;  and,  sister,  sooner  than  see  you  married  to  our  cousin, 
I  will  fly  with  you.  I  care  not,  if  it  is  to  countries  where 
the  ministers  of  religion  dare  not,  like  Father  Padilla,  lend 
themselves  to  avarice  and  licentiousness  and  cruelty." 

"  Hush !  hush !  dearest  Juanita,  you  make  me  tremble — 
you  are  so  wild — so  passionate — so " 

"  Heretical — you  would  say.  "Well,  I  care  not.  If  to  des 
pise  cousin  Orsolo,  and  his  tool,  Father  Padilla,  is  heresy, 


18  THE     BERBER. 

then  I  am  a  heretic.  They  may  make  an  auto-da-fe  for  me, 
as  they  did  for  the  poor  Jew  at  Lisbon  the  other  day ;  but 
they  will  not  compel  me  to  recant.  I  hate  Father  Padilla. 
Do  you  know,  Isabel,  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  to  receive  the 
attention  of  the  Holy  Office  before  long ;  for  I  have  already 
intimated  to  the  old  wine-bibber  my  scepticism  as  to  the  pos 
sibility  of  a  drunken  priest  getting  to  heaven,  and  still  more 
of  his  ability  to  send  any  one  else  there." 

Isabel  raised  her  hands  at  her  sister's  audacity.  "  Hush, 
foolish,  wicked  Juanita.  Your  careless  words  will  bring  us 
trouble.  Hush !  you  make  me  tremble." 

At  this  moment  the  boat  that  we  have  indicated  as  steer 
ing  for  the  bar  of  the  Guadalete,  suddenly  changed  its  course, 
and  with  a  few  vigorous  strokes  was  sent  upon  the  beach 
some  hundred  yards  below  the  garden  wall  where  stood  the 
sisters. 

"  Look  there,  Juanita,"  exclaimed  the  elder,  as  the  boat 
man  sprang  lightly  to  the  shore. 

"  'Tis  your  English  lover — 'tis  Don  Edward,"  said  Juanita, 
after  a  moment's  scrutiny. 

"  God  forbid  ! — but  'tis  as  I  feared,"  replied  Isabel,  pale  and 
trembling;  "what  shall  be  done1?  How  foolish  for  him  to 
venture.  He  little  knows  the  danger  that  threatens  him." 

"  He's  over  bold  indeed,"  returned  Juanita,  "  to  come  in 
the  daylight ;  but  sister,  you  must  see  him  now,  and  warn  him 
of  his  danger.  'Twould  be  wrong  indeed  to  leave  so  brave  a 
gallant  to  the  dagger  of  such  a  coward  as  our  cousin." 

"No,  no,  I  cannot,"  exclaimed  the  elder;  "I  dare  not." 
But  the  impulsive  and  impetuous  Juanita,  unheeding  her  sis- 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  19 

ter's  remonstrance,  waved  her  handkerchief  in  the  air;  a  signal 
that  the  young  boatman  replied  to  by  raising  his  hat,  and  then 
advancing  concealed  by  the  low  banks  of  sand  from  view  from 
the  balconies  of  the  quinta." 

"  I  will  go  and  keep  watch,"  said  Juanita.  "  Don  Diego 
and  Father  Padilla  are  here,  for  I  saw  them  talking  with 
several  strange  looking  fellows  but  a  few  moments  since.  If  I 
notice  any  thing  suspicious,  I  will  sing  you  a  verse  of  the  Cid 
in  my  loudest  key ;  but  wait  not  for  my  voice,  despatch  your 
lover  in  all  haste,  for  much  I  fear  his  coming  is  known." 

So  saying  her  lithe  and  slender  figure  vanished  amid  the 
foliage  of  the  winding  arbors. 


THE      BERBER. 


CHAPTER    II, 


IT  was  somewhere  about  the  year  1671  or  72,  that  a 
young  Englishman,  named  Henry  Carlyle,  settled  himself  as  a 
merchant  at  Cadiz.  Although  at  first  but  an  agent  for  his 
principals  in  England,  who  were  largely  interested  in  the  then 
rapidly  increasing  trade  in  the  famous  products  of  the  vin- 
yards  of  Xerez,  he  soon  won  for  himself  by  his  industry  and 
attention  to  business,  and  by  the  skill  and  judgment  he 
evinced  in  dealing  with  the  jealous  and  bigoted  Spaniard,  a 
character  and  a  standing  that  at  length  enabled  him  to  set  up 
for  himself,  and  eventually  led  to  the  accumulation  of  a  for 
tune.  The  fortune  put  it  in  his  power  to  marry  one  of  the 
seven  lovely  daughters  of  a  poor  English  Baronet,  and  the 
marriage  finally  made  him  the  father  of  two  fine  boys. 

Justly  proud  were  the  worthy  parents  of  their  twin-chil 
dren.  Inheriting,  on  the  part  of  their  father,  an  excellent,  al 
though  somewhat  plebeian  constitution,  and  on  the  part  of 
their  mother  some  of  the  best  blood  of  England,  they  grew 
rapidly  in  beauty  and  strength :  and  from  the  first  exhibited 
such  a  close  resemblance  to  each  other  as  often  to  puzzle  their 
fond  parents  as  to  their  separate  identities. 

The  rich  merchant  had  a  country  seat  near  the  shore  of  the 


AT  A  LEOF     MOROCCO.  21 

Atlantic,  a  little  above  Rota,  where  the  twins  passed  most  of 
their  time  in  charge  of  an  English  tutor  and  a  Scotch  nurse, 
but  under  the  immediate  eye  of  the  jealous  and  watchful 
mother.  Her  jealousy  and  watchfulness,  however,  served  not 
to  save  one  of  the  twins  from  a  fate  to  which  in  those  days  all 
the  dwellers  by  the  sea-side  were  constantly  exposed;  and 
which,  to  the  apprehensions  of  a  good  Christian,  seemed  more 
terrible  than  death. 

The  children  had  reached  the  age  of  ten,  when  one  day 
— about  fifteen  years  previous  to  the  date  of  the  scene  with 
which  our  story  opens — they  were  surprised  by  a  party  of 
Moors  who  had  landed  from  a  Salee  corsair.  At  the  first 
appearance  of  the  pirates,  who  had  secreted  themselves  among 
the  sand  hills  on  the  shore,  one  of  the  boys  was  hurried 
along  by  his  tutor  in  full  speed  for  the  house.  The  timely 
warning  and  a  good  start  enabled  him  to  make  his  escape; 
but  his  brother  Henry,  who  had  wandered  wide,  was  inter 
cepted  and  seized.  Long  before  any  attempts  could  be  made 
for  his  rescue,  the  pirates  had  taken  to  their  boats,  and  put 
off  from  the  shore  to  rejoin  their  galley,  which,  disguised  as 
a  fishing  vessel,  was  waiting  for  them  on  the  bar  off  the 
Guadalquiver. 

A  visit  from  Maroquien  and  Algerine  cruisers  was  then 
too  common  an  event  on  the  coasts  of  Spain  to  excite  much 
attention,  especially  when,  as  in  this  case,  the  loss  was  so  slight 
— only  one  child,  and  he  the  son  of  an  Englishman,  and  a 
heretic — and  nothing  was  done  by  the  Spanish  officials  to 
rescue  the  child  or  to  punish  the  pirates,  although  it  was  known 
from  an  escaped  galley  slave,  that  they  were  bound  for  further 


22  THE     BERBER. 

depredations  to  the  coast  of  Portugal.  Every  means,  how 
ever,  that  the  afflicted  father  could  employ  were  taken  for  the 
recovery  of  his  child.  The  British  agent  at  the  court  of  Muley 
Ismael  was  written  to  in  relation  to  the  matter,  and  money 
was  sent  to  the  superior  of  the  Spanish  Fathers  of  the  Re 
demption,  at  Mequinez,  for  the  ransom  of  the  boy.  But  all 
exertions  availed  nothing ;  no  tidings  could  be  had  of  him 
from  any  source,  and  the  conjecture  was  general  with  all  who 
knew  any  thing  of  Moorish  habits  and  notions,  that  his  captors, 
sordid  and  avaricious  as  they  were,  preferred  the  conversion 
of  his  young  and  impressible  mind  to  the  true  faith  to  selling 
him  for  a  slave  or  to  offering  him  for  redemption. 

Thankful  for  the  escape  of  one  son,  it  required  but 
a  few  months  to  assuage  the  father's  grief  at  the  loss  of 
the  other.  Not  so  with  the  mother,  who  refused  to  be  com 
forted.  The  idea  of  her  lost  child — living,  but  living  in  the 
habits  and  the  belief  of  a  Mahommedan — took  complete 
possession  of  her  mind.  Her  health  rapidly  declined,  and 
in  little  more  than  a  year  she  found  a  refuge  from  her  grief 
in  the  grave. 

Upon  the  loss  of  his  mother,  young  Edward  was  sent 
to  England,  where  he  resided  for  six  or  seven  years  at  school. 
At  the  end  of  this  period  he  returned  to  his  father,  who 
needed  his  aid  in  the  counting-room  at  Cadiz  and  the  wine- 
vaults  of  Puerto  Santa  Maria.  A  short  trial,  however,  soon 
satisfied  both  father  and  son  that  the  mercantile  profession 
was  not  the  one  to  which  the  young  man's  tastes  and  talents 
were  best  adapted.  His  own  inclination  wavered  between 
the  profession  of  arms  and  the  pursuits  of  literature;  but 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  23 

before  deciding  definitively  as  to  his  future  career,  his  father 
resolved  that  he  should  see  something  more  of  the  world. 
The  cool  and  sagacious  merchant,  whose  judgment  was  un- 
warped  either  by  his  affection  for  his  graceful  good  looking 
boy,  or  by  his  really  justifiable  pride  in  his  showy  talents 
and  accomplishments,  saw  much  in  his  desultory  habits,  and 
in  his  enthusiastic  but  vacillating  turn  of  mind  to  make  him 
doubt  his  persistance  in  any  pursuit  unless  entered  upon 
with  all  due  consideration.  This,  however,  was  of  less  con 
sequence  in  the  mind  of  the  father  than  he  would  have  been 
willing  to  allow  to  the  son.  He  knew  that  his  boy  would 
inherit  an  ample  fortune,  and  it  was  a  subject  therefore  of 
but  little  regret  that  he  possessed  not  those  plodding  and 
methodical  habits  that  would  be  most  likely  to  increase  it. 
To  fit  him  for  enjoying  his  fortune  as  a  gentleman  was  now 
the  principal  object  in  the  father's  mind,  and  he  accordingly 
at  once  gave  his  consent  to  a  proposed  tour  with  one  of  his 
schoolmates  through  the  continent  and  to  the  Levant.  From 
this  tour  he  had  returned  some  two  or  three  months  previous 
to  the  date  of  the  events  in  the  last  chapter,  to  find  his  father 
in  a  declining  state  of  health,  and  himself  a  subject  of  watch 
ful  jealousy  to  certain  Spanish  officials,  religious  and  political, 
who  had  made  up  their  minds  for  a  share  of  the  rich  heretic's 
fortune. 

At  that  time  the  situation  of  a  Protestant  merchant  in 
a  Spanish  port  was  a  very  delicate  and  difficult  one.  Com 
mercial  jealousy,  national  animosity  and  religious  hate,  all 
conspired  in  a  degree,  unknown  in  the  present  day,  to  em 
barrass  his  movements  and  endanger  his  gains.  What  the 


24  THE     BERBER. 

myrmidons  of  the  law  could  not  effect,  the  ministers  of  re 
ligion  frequently  succeeded  in  accomplishing,  and  the  Inqui 
sition,  then  in  full  force,  stepping  in,  the  plunder  and  ruin  01 
the  unlucky  culprit  were  complete.  By  his  prudence,  energy, 
personal  influence,  and  knowledge  of  Spanish  customs  and 
character,  the  father  of  Edward  had  managed  to  maintain  his 
ground  against  all  the  evil  influences  around  him ;  but  now, 
that  his  health  was  beginning  to  fail  him,  the  hopes  of  the 
cormorants,  who  had  long  had  an  eye  to  his  money-bags, 
began  to  revive.  Between  these  hopes  and  their  ultimate 
gratification  stood  the  young  heir,  and  it  was  a  question  that 
had  already  begun  to  be  agitated,  whether  he  was  to  be 
disposed  of  by  open  despoliation,  or  the  chicanery  of  the  law 
• — by  the  dagger  of  the  assassin,  or  the  dungeons  of  the 
Inquisition. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  affairs  when,  as  if  to  complicate 
his  position  with  still  further  difficulties  and  dangers,  the 
young  Don  Edward,  suffered  his  ardent  fancy  to  become 
captive  to  the  bright  eyes  and  graceful  form  of  Isabel  de  Es- 
tivan.  Contrary  to  the  usual  Spanish  custom,  the  fair  Anda- 
luza  had  been  brought  up  without  female  supervision,  and 
with  very  little  restriction  upon  her  habits  and  movements. 
Her  mother  had  been  dead  several  years.  Her  only  relative, 
an  aunt,  was  too  much  engrossed  with  the  care  of  her  estates 
to  take  any  immediate  interest  in  the  training  of  her  nieces. 
Her  father's  circumstances  were  too  embarrassed  to  enable 
him  to  keep  up  for  his  daughters  a  fitting  establishment  of  du 
enna  and  attendants,  while  he  was  too  busily  occupied  by 
his  intrigues  for  office  and  fortune  to  bestow  any  very  close 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  25 

attention  upon  them  himself.  This  freedom,  however,  from 
the  usual  restrictions  of  Spanish  domestic  life  was  the  result 
of  circumstances,  not  of  principles  ;  and  there  wanted  nothing 
but  some  occasion  for  suspicion  to  arouse,  in  all  its  vigor, 
the  authority  of  the  father  and  the  watchfulness  of  friends. 
An  acquaintance  with  the  handsome  young  heretic,  formed 
at  an  evening  tertulia,  ripened  rapidly  in  two  or  three  acci 
dental  meetings  upon  the  Alemeda  and  the  Plaza  del  Anto 
nio  into  an  intimacy  that  soon  aroused  jealousy,  and  called 
for  active  interference.  The  fair  Gaditana  was  at  once  con 
fined  to  the  house,  and  her  admirer,  when  breathing  forth 
his  regret  at  her  absence  to  the  accompaniment  of  his  gui 
tar,  was  one  night  assaulted  by  a  party  of  ruffians,  and  had 
it- not  been  for  his  extraordinary  skill  with  his  good  "toledo," 
would  have  been  put  beyond  the  reach  of  Cupid's  arrows  for 
evermore.  As  it  was,  he  barely  escaped,  with  wounds  that 
confined  him  to  his  chamber  for  weeks,  and  in  the  meantime 
his  dulcinea  was  removed  to  an  old  dilapidated  family  country- 
seat  on  the  other  side  of  the  bay  of  Cadiz,  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Guadalete. 

Though  not  of  the  highest  nobility,  the  family  of  Don 
Pedro  de  Estivan  were  of  the  best  blood  of  Spain.  But  un 
luckily  his  fortunes  did  not,  as  we  have  said,  correspond  either 
to  his  birth  or  to  his  own  notions  of  his  deserts.  Like  many 
of  his  countrymen,  he  was  both  poor  and  proud,  and  this  put 
him  very  much  hi  the  power  of  a  rich  kinsman,  Don  Diego 
de  Orsolo,  who  had  conceived  a  violent  passion  for  the  fair 
Isabel,  or  rather  for  the  magnificent  estates  of  a  rich  but  pe 
nurious  aunt,  to  which  it  was  supposed  she  would  become  heir. 

2 


26  THEBERBER. 

Cold,  and  selfish,  and  ill  favored,  Don  Diego  was  not  the  man 
to  win  the  heart  of  a  fair  maiden,  especially  when  there  was 
a  handsome  and  accomplished  lover  in  the  way ;  but  jealous, 
revengeful  and  determined,  he  was  just  the  man  to  take  any 
means,  however  atrocious,  to  remove  a  rival,  or  to  secure 
possession  of  an  unwilling  bride. 

By  the  agents  of  Don  Diego  the  movements  of  the  young 
Englishman  were  closely  watched,  and  great  was  the  wrath 
of  both  the  dons  when  it  was  found  that  upon  two  or  three 
occasions  the  temerarious  gallant  had  crossed  the  bay,  and 
had  tinkled  his  guitar  in  the  stillness  of  the  night  under  the  bal 
conies  of  the  quinta.  Such  audacity  in  a  heretic,  an  English 
man,  and  the  son  of  a  trader,  deserved  the  severest  punishment : 
and  Don  Diego  took  upon  himself  the  charge  of  inflicting  it. 
A  severe  beating  or  a  gentle  blood-letting  would  have  satisfied 
Don  Pedro ;  but  Don  Diego  resolved  that  his  revenge  should 
be  deadly  and  sure,  and  at  the  same  time  safe  and  profitable. 
To  effect  which  he  had  no  scruple  to  call  to  his  aid  the  officials 
of  the  Inquisition. 


A    TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  27 


CHAPTER    III. 


THE  adventurous  boatman  raised  his  hat  in  reply  to  the 
signal  of  the  younger  sister.  Grouching  low,  he  attained  the 
shelter  of  the  garden  wall,  and  then  advanced  with  a  rapid  pace 
until  he  stood  directly  beneath  the  balustrade  where  leaned 
the  fair  Isabel. 

No  wonder  that  she  liked  not  the  idea  of  marrying  her 
ungainly,  grim-visaged  kinsman,  Don  Diego — not  that  she  was 
very  much  in  love  with  the  graceful  Englishman ;  but  her 
fancy  had  been  unquestionably  taken,  and  her  admiration  ex 
cited  by  his  handsome  features,  his  fair  open  brow,  his  clear 
hazle  eye.  his  frank,  good-natured  smile,  and  his  figure,  tall, 
symmetrical,  and  abounding  in  those  nameless,  natural  indica 
tions  of  combined  activity  and  strength. 

The  first  impulse  of  the  timid  Isabel  had  been  to  follow 
the  footsteps  of  her  more  energetic  and  vivacious  sister ;  but 
a  moment's  thought  of  the  danger  that  threatened  the  young 
man  checked  her  movements,  and  with  a  degree  of  excitement 
that  drove  the  blood  from  her  usually  richly-tinted  cheek,  she 
awaited  his  approach. 

"  Thanks,  fair  lady,"  he  exclaimed,  gracefully  taking  his 
sombrero  from  his  head,  and  shaking  back  the  clustering  curls 


28  THEBERBER. 

of  dark  auburn  as  he  raised  his  eyes  to  the  maiden  above  him : 
"  Thanks  for  this  kindness — this  condescension ;  I  had  begun 
to  despair  of  ever  seeing  you  again." 

"  Hush !  senor,"  replied  Isabel,  bending  down  over  the  ba 
lustrade,  and  speaking  in  a  low  tone :  "  This  is  no  time  for 
the  language  of  compliment;  you  are  surrounded  by  ene 
mies  ;  your  life  is  in  danger." 

"  Danger !"  exclaimed  Edward ;  "  ah !  there  is  no  danger 
for  me  equal  to  that  which  lies  in  those  black  eyes.  But  why 
are  you  so  agitated  1  what  is  it  that  alarms  you  ?" 

The  young  man  placed  his  foot  in  a  crevice  between  the 
stones  and  seized  the  branches  of  a  trailing  vine  that  had 
been  suffered  to  overgrow  the  crest  of  the  rampart.  Isabel 
threw  up  her  arms,  as  if  deprecating  his  nearer  approach ;  but 
before  she  could  utter  a  word  he  had  drawn  himself  up,  and 
leaping  the  balustrade,  stood  by  her  side. 

"  Indeed,  senor,  you  are  too  bold,"  exclaimed  the  maiden, 
as  soon  as  she  could  recover  her  voice. 

"  Pardon  me,  senorita,"  replied  Edward ;  "  I  would  not  in 
trude  upon  you ;  but  you  know " 

"  Nay  it  is  not  that,"  interrupted  Isabel ;  "  I  mean  not  that 
you  are  too  bold  as  respects  myself;  in  that  I  have  perhaps 
given  you  too  much  warrant  for  boldness ;  but  you  are  too 
bold,  too  careless,  in  regard  to  the  threats  and  designs  of 
your  enemies." 

"Enemies,"  exclaimed  Edward;  "I  have  no  enemy  but 
Don  Diego,  and  his  enmity  I  court,  as  it  is  the  necessary 
consequence  of  your  favor." 

"  Do  not  interrupt  me,  senor,"  continued  Isabel,  "  I  have 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  29 

but  a  moment  to  speak  to  you.  I  have  waited  here  only  to 
give  you  warning.  You  have  enemies — many  of  them.  You  are 
watched,  senor,  closely  watched ;  every  movement  of  yours  is 
known ;  and  much  I  misdoubt  me  if  malicious  eyes  are  not 
upon  us  this  very  moment." 

"  Let  them,"  interrupted  Edward,  taking  her  hand ;  "  Let 
them  watch ;  I  care  not ;  since  neither  the  eyes,  nor  the  dag 
gers  belonging  to  their  owners,  can  pierce  my  heart  so  cru 
elly  as  those  bright  orbs  of  yours.  Que  hermosos  ojos  !  Ah, 
who  could  resist  them  ?" 

"  Oh,  speak  not  so  contemptuously,  senor,  of  the  danger 
that  threatens  you.  You  could  not,  I  am  sure,  so  brave  it, 
if  you  understood  its  nature.  It  is  not  the  dagger  of  the  as 
sassin  that  frightens  me  the  most,  though  that  may  not  fail 
the  second  time.  It  is  something  far  worse.  I  shudder  to 
think  of  it." 

"What  is  it,  mi  queridita?"  demanded  the  young  man, 
drawing  the  shrinking  maiden  towards  him ;  "  what  is  it  that 
you  fear  for  me  1" 

"  The  Inquisition !"  replied  Isabel  with  a  shudder. 

"Ha!"  exclaimed  her  lover,  the  blood  retreating  for  a 
moment  from  his  cheek,  "  they  would  not  dare " 

"  Not  in  the  streets  of  Cadiz ;  it  would  be  too  public ;  it 
would  attract  too  much  attention,  and  arouse  all  your  friends ; 
but  on  this  side  of  the  bay — here  at  Puerto  Santa  Maria — 
you  can  be  seized  and  consigned  to  a  dungeon  without  giv 
ing  any  clue  to  your  fate.  You  may  come  to  light  again 
when  your  father  is  a  beggar,  stripped  of  all  his  fortune  for 
the  ransom  of  his  son.  Trust  me,  there  is  a  scheme  on  foot 


SO  THEBERBER. 

against  you  and  your  father's  wealth;  a  conspiracy  between 
certain  hungry  priests  and  your  deadliest  enemy,  Don  Diego 
de  Orsolo." 

"  How  know  you  this  f  demanded  Edward. 

"  I  know  it,"  eagerly  returned  the  maiden,  "  from  Father 
Padilla.  Juanita  extracted  the  whole  plan  from  him  when 
he  was  garrulous  with  wine.  Juanita  is  shrewd  beyond  her 
years ;  and  I  know  not  how  it  is,  but  I  am  getting  to  repose 
more  confidence  in  her  quickness  and  intelligence  than  in  my 
own.  I  know  it,  too,  from  the  threat  of  Don  Diego,  and  from 
the  presence  of  numerous  officials  of  the  Inquisition  around  the 
house.  Oh !  trust  me ;  I  know  it  too  well.  You  have  not 
a  moment  to  lose.  See,  the  twilight  is  fading.  Go,  while 
you  have  yet  power — in  a  few  moments  it  may  be  too  late — 
quick !  to  your  boat !"  exclaimed  the  excited  Isabel,  as  the 
voice  of  her  sister  came  to  her  ear : — 

"  The  king  had  taken  order  that  they  should  rear  an  arch 
From  house  to  house  all  over  the  way  that  they  must  march ; 
They  had  hung  it  all  with  lances,  and  shields,  and  glittering  helms, 
Brought  by  the  campeador  from  out  the  Moorish  realms." 

The  loud  clear  voice  of  Juanita  rose  almost  to  a  shriek,  as 
she  sang  the  last  line. 

"  Quick  ! — to  your  boat  at  once — ah !  linger  not ;  you  lit 
tle  know  the  imminence  of  the  danger ;  back  to  Cadiz  :  there 
you  are  comparatively  safe ;  but  tarry  not  even  there  if  you 
can  possibly  leave  the  country." 

"  Never,  Isabel.  How  can  you  be  so  cruel  as  to  propose 
it1?  Ah,  your  coldness  wounds  me  deeper  than  could  the 
dagger  of  Don  Diego." 


AT A LEOF     MOROCCO.  31 

X 

But  further  conversation  was  cut  short  by  the  appearance 
of  Juanita,  who  came  flying  down  the  avenue  with  every  mark 
of  excitement  and  alarm. 

fc-Fly,  sefioiy'  exclaimed  the  young  girl  energetically, 
grasping  Edward  by  the  arm ;  "  to  your  boat— quickly  and 
cautiously !  Do  you  see  that  clump  of  shrubbery  beyond  the 
garden-wall  ?  Behind  that  are  concealed  a  party  of  men,  who 
are  there  to  watch  your  motions.  You  will  have  to  pass 
them  on  your  way  to  your  boat.  Do  so  leisurely  until  you 
are  beyond  them,  and  then  haste  for  your  life.  Do  you  com 
prehend  me  ?  Well— no  words— God  speed  you.  Come  Isa 
bel  ;•'  and,  seizing  her  sister's  arm,  Juanita  drew  her  rapidly 
up  the  arbor,  leaving  the  somewhat  astonished  gallant  stand 
ing  motionless,  gazing  upon  their  retreating  figures,  and  half- 
disposed  to  spring  after  them  and  detain  them,  at  least  until 
he  had  taken  leave  in  a  manner  better  befitting  an  interview 
which  it  had  cost  the  labor  of  rowing  eight  or  ten  miles  to 
obtain. 

The  earnest  tones  and  energetic  gesture  of  the  younger 
maiden  had.  however,  their  effect.  A  conviction  of  the  dan 
ger  of  his  situation  flashed  across  Edward's  mind.  He  turned, 
and  leaping  the  balustrade,  swung  himself  lightly  down  the 
terrace-wall  to  the  beach. 

Mindful  of  the  caution  he  had  received,  he  strolled  lei 
surely  along,  stopping  now  and  then  to  fling  a  pebble  on 
the  water,  until  he  was  abreast  of  the  spot  indicated  by 
Juanita  as  the  lurking  place  of  his  foes.  He  knew  that  any 
appearance  of  haste  would  bring  them  at  once  upon  him, 
whereas,  if  he  could  make  them  think  that  he  was  disposed 


32  THEBERBER. 

to  remain  until  night,  they,  too,  would  be  willing  to  wait 
until  darkness  should  enable  them  to  attack  him  without  being 
observed,  and  in  perhaps  a  greater  force  than  in  so  short 
a  time  they  had  been  able  to  collect. 

Slowly  he  paced  to  and  fro  in  front  of  his  ambushed 
enemy — gradually  gaining  ground  at  each  turn  towards  his 
boat.  Suddenly  three  or  four  heads  appeared  above  the  angle 
of  the  wall,  and  in  a  moment  more  half  a  dozen  men  sprang 
to  the  beach. 

Edward  paused  not  for  a  moment,  but  darting  forward 
at  full  speed,  reached  his  boat  some  distance  ahead  of  his 
pursuers.  Unluckily  the  tide  had  ebbed  a  little,  leaving  his 
boat  somewhat  higher  on  the  beach,  but  exerting  his  utmost 
strength,  he  succeeded  in  shoving  it  into  the  water  and  jump 
ing  in  himself  just  as  the  foremost  of  his  foes  came  up  to 
him. 

"  Yield  thee,  senor,  to  the  warrant  of  the  Holy  Office,"  ex 
claimed  the  panting  official,  at  the  same  time  rushing  into 
the  water  and  laying  hold  of  the  bow  of  the  boat. 

With  a  sweep  of  his  oar  that  laid  his  pursuer  floundering 
in  the  water,  the  young  man  replied  to  the  summons.  With 
another  vigorous  push  the  boat  shot  out  beyond  the  reach  of 
further  molestation. 

A  shout  of  rage  and  a  volley  of  curses  were  sent  after  him 
by  the  Spaniards — while,  adjusting  his  oars  in  their  rowlocks, 
he  quietly  pulled  out  into  the  bay,  over  which  was  beginning 
to  steal  the  luminous  gray  of  an  Andalusian  summer's  night. 
There  was  light  enough,  however,  to  show  the  disappointed 
officials  and  their  ruffian  companions  grouped  for  a  moment 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  33 

in  consultation — the  next  he  saw  them  start  off  at  a  furious 
pace  in  the  direction  of  some  fishing-boats  drawn  up  upon  the 
beach. 

"  They  will  soon  be  after  me,"  muttered  Edward,  "  but 
thank  God  here  comes  the  easterly  breeze — with  a  dozen  oars 
against  one  pair  of  sculls,  there  would  be  but  a  poor  chance 
in  a  chase  of  eight  miles — the  leyante,  however,  will  put  us 
more  on  an  equality." 

Laying  down  his  oars,  the  young  man  quickly  stepped  a 
short  mast,  and  rigged  upon  it  a  slender  lateen  yard  with  a 
light  sail  attached.  He  then  shipped  the  rudder,  and  hoist 
ing  and  squaring  the  sail,  the  little  yessel  darted  off  oyer  the 
smooth  water  before  the  light  breath  of  the  easterly  breeze. 

Edward  gazed  astern :  he  could  just  see  the  slender  yard 
of  a  small  felucca — a  fishing-boat  probably — with  the  furled 
sail  attached — at  that  moment  the  sail  fell  from  the  yard,  and 
a  broad  patch  of  canvass  showed  that  his  pursuers  were  also 
about  to  take  advantage  of  the  freshening  levante. 

The  young  man  seizing  the  tiller  ropes,  carefully  seated 
himself  so  as  to  trim  the  boat  to  an  even  keel.  As  his  little 
bark  quietly  and  steadily  skimmed  the  surface  of  the  bay,  he 
had  leisure  to  think  over  all  the  circumstances  of  his  situation, 
and  to  speculate  on  the  probable  chances  of  escape.  The 
appalling  nature  of  the  danger  broke  upon  him  with  a  degree 
of  distinctness  that  it  never  could  have  had  when  under  the 
immediate  influence  of  the  dark  eyes  of  the  Gaditana.  He 
knew  that  if  captured  thus,  secretly,  at  night,  his  friends  all 
ignorant  of  his  fate,  his  doom  was  sealed ;  and  that  if  the 
dungeons  of  the  Inquisition  once  closed  upon  him,  no  matter 

2* 


34  THE     BERBER". 

how  preposterous  the  charge,  or  how  transparent  the  pretext, 
a  long  imprisonment,  ending  only  with  loss  of  fortune,  and 
perhaps  of  life,  would  be  his  fate. 

"  Better  die  than  be  taken,"  he  exclaimed,  starting  from  his 
revery.  "  Better  any  fate  than  the  cells  of  the  Holy  Office." 

Drawing  his  rapier,  he  placed  it  so  as  to  be  within  reach ; 
and  then  loosing  his  dagger  in  its  sheath,  he  proceeded  to 
ungird  the  woollen  sash  from  around  his  waist,  and  to  wind  it 
over  his  left  arm.  "  It  may  serve  to  receive  a  stab  or  to 
ward  a  blow,"  he  muttered. 

He  looked  again  for  the  felucca ;  it  was  now  night,  but 
her  broad  sail  was  distinctly  visible  and  evidently  much  nearer. 
There  was  also  the  gleam  of  oar-blades,  as  dripping  with  the 
water  they  flashed  upward  in  the  bright  star-light.  The 
creaking  and  working  of  the  sweeps  in  their  grommets  be 
came  more  and  more  audible. 

"Ha!"  exclaimed  Edward,  "they  are  in  earnest and 

all  this  risk"  he  continued  musingly  "  for  a  girl  who  loves  me 
not.  I  can  see  it  in  her  eyes.  There  is  a  depth  of  passion  in 
those  bright  but  quiet  orbs  that  I  have  failed  to  stir — no,  she 
likes  me  well,  but  she  loves  me  not.  And  I, — am  I  in  love  with 
her  1  Caramba  !  the  very  question  should  be  its  own  answer ; 
a  passing  fancy  may  be  stopped  and  challenged,  but  true  love 
cannot  be  questioned — as  well  question  the  broad  sunlight, 
whether  it  is  day.  No — I  do  not  love  her.  But  by  all 
the  saints  !  she  is  a  glorious  creature  !  I  could  love  her — yes, 
I  could  love  her  !  Methinks,  did  she  love  me,  a  single  glance 
of  passion  would  melt  my  soul,  were  it  of  adamant,  and  fuse 
it  into  one  with  hers ;  but  as  it  is — ah  !  my  love  is  hardly 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  35 

worth  risking  a  dungeon  for — I  am  willing  to  brave  a  dag 
ger's  thrust  for  almost  any  fair  lady  :  but  the  Inquisition  ! — 
that  is  a  different  matter." 

The  young  man  gazed  anxiously  around  the  horizon. 
There  were  other  sails  in  sight,  but  none  near  enough  to  aid 
him,  even  supposing  that  their  crews  would  have  dared  to 
oppose  themselves  to  a  warrant  from  the  Holy  Office.  His 
boat  was  now  in  the  centre  of  the  bay,  and  his  pursuers  about 
four  or  five  hundred  yards  astern,  slowly,  but  surely  gaining 
upon  him.  Convulsively  his  hand  grasped  the  hilt  of  his 
rapier,  when  suddenly  an  idea  flashed  upon  his  mind  that 
made  him  bound  from  his  reclining  posture  with  a  renewed 
hope  of  escape. 

"  By  Heavens,  I'll  try  it,"  he  exclaimed ;  "  I  hardly  think 
that  they  will  follow  me,  if  I  can  get  a  good  offing  :"  and, 
springing  forward,  he  swayed  down  and  secured  the  yard  in 
a  position  more  nearly  approaching  a  perpendicular ;  trimmed 
the  sheet  aft,  and  seizing  the  tiller,  turned  the  bow  of  his  boat 
directly  seaward ;  steering  a  course  that  led  about  midway 
between  the  extreme  point  of  Cadiz  on  the  one  hand,  and 
the  village  of  Rota  on  the  other. 

It  was  some  little  time  before  the  crew  of  the  felucca  ob 
served  this  change  of  course,  but  the  instant  it  was  seen  they 
also  hauled  to  the  wind  and  continued  the  chase. 

For  full  an  hour  both  boats  held  their  way,  until  Rota  and 
Punta  Catalena  at  the  mouth  of  the  bay  were  left  far  be 
hind.  They  were  now  fairly  out  at  sea,  and  still  no  signs  of 
any  disposition  on  the  part  of  the  Spaniards  to  abandon  the 
pursuit.  Edward  knew  not  that  Don  Diego  himself  was  on 


36  THE     BERBER. 

board  the  felucca,  urging  and  directing  her  movements,  or 
he  never  would  have  indulged  the  hope  of  shaking  off  his 
pursuers  by  standing  out  to  sea. 

Again  did  his  heart  sink  within  him,  as  he  saw  the  steadi 
ness  with  which  the  felucca  held  on  his  course,  and  noted  the 
short  distance — not  more  than  sixty  or  eighty  yards — that 
now  intervened.  Twenty  minutes  more  would  decide  his  fate 
• — and  such  a  fate  !  He  thought  of  his  father — of  Isabel — of 
the  dungeons  of  the  Inquisition — and  he  looked  for  a  moment 
bitterly  upon  the  dark  water,  half  tempted  to  bury  his  anx 
iety  beneath  its  surface. 

"  No,  no,"  he  muttered  to  himself,  "  that  would  be  cow 
ardly — better  leap  aboard  of  them,  and  trust  to  sword  and 


"But  as  he  spoke  thus,  the  thought  of  jumping  over 
board  suggested  a  new  plan  of  escape.  If  he  could  make  his 
pursuers  believe,  for  the  time,  that  he  had  leaped  overboard 
and  gone  to  the  bottom,  he  might  possibly  elude  their  grasp 
&s  effectually  as  if  such  had  actually  been  his  fate.  With 
characteristic  readiness  he  lost  not  a  moment  in  carrying  his 
plan  into  execution.  Taking  a  small  short  cord,  he  fastened  it 
to  the  lower  bolt  confining  the  rudder  to  the  stern ;  seizing  the 
other  end  of  the  cord  and  unshipping  the  rudder,  with  a  loud 
.splash  he  plunged  into  the  water,  just  as  a  summons  to  yield 
himself,  mixed  with  a  volley  of  Spanish  imprecations,  came 
-from  the  rapidly-advancing  felucca.  Drawing  himself  up  by 
the  cord,  he  allowed  his  body  to  sink  until  his  mouth  came  a 
little  above  the  surface  of  the  water,  while  his  head  was 
securely  concealed  in  the  black  shadow  cast  by  the  square- 


AT  A  LEOF     MOROCCO.  37 

raking  stern  that  projected  several  feet  beyond  the  bolt  to 
which  the  cord  was  attached. 

The  little  vessel,  no  longer  governed  by  the  rudder,  at 
once  broached  to,  and  her  sail  being  taken  aback,  she  lost 
headway  and  lay  boxing  about  in  the  light  breeze.  In  a  few 
moments  the  felucca  was  alongside ;  but  mindful  of  the  young 
Englishman's  prowess,  her  crew  were  at  first  rather  cautious 
about  coming  very  close,  and  it  was  some  little  time  be 
fore  they  ascertained  that  the  boat  was  empty.  Great  was 
their  astonishment,  and  not  less  their  rage  at  this  sudden  disap 
pearance  of  their  prey.  They  strained  their  eyes  in  vain  over 
the  dark  surface  of  the  water ;  they  held  their  breaths  and  lis 
tened  intently ;  but  the  idea  of  any  one  undertaking  to  reach 
the  shore  by  swimming  was  too  preposterous.  There  could  be 
but  one  opinion  in  relation  to  the  case.  The  vile  heretic,  in 
utter  contempt  of  the  Holy  Office,  had  preferred  drowning 
himself  to  submitting  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  cowled 
council  at  Xerez  de  la  Fronterra. 

"  Maledictions  rest  on  his  soul !"  exclaimed  one  of  the  two 
familiars  accompanying  the  party;  "he  has  escaped  us;  he 
must  have  jumped  overboard  when  we  heard  that  plunge  in 
the  water.  No  doubt  he  tied  the  anchor  to  his  body,  and  is 
now  a  hundred  fathoms  deep  at  least." 

"Just  like  all  those  cursed  Englishmen,"  replied  his  com 
panion.  They  think  nothing  of  committing  suicide.  I've  been 
told  that,  in  their  own  country,  more  than  half  of  them  cut 
their  throats  or  drown  themselves  before  they  are  thirty 
years  old." 

"  'Tis  their  climate,"  interrupted  a  grim  ruffian ;  "  I've 
been  there.  Caramba  f  what  clouds  and  fogs." 


38  THE     BERBER. 

"  Partly  their  climate,  but  more  their  religion,"  returned 
the  official.  "  They  are  heretics,  and  knowing  they  must  go 
to  hell  at  any  rate,  they  don't  care  when  or  how." 

After  some  debate  it  was  decided  to  take  the  boat  in  tow, 
and  row  back  to  the  city.  Securely  hidden  in  the  deep  sha 
dow  under  the  overhanging  stern,  the  young  man  listened  to 
the  conversation  carried  on  above  him  with  no  little  interest. 
He  had  confidently  speculated  upon  his  pursuers  abandoning 
the  boat  when  they  should  find  that  he  had  disappeared ;  and 
that  with  him  had  gone  both  oars  and  rudder.  In  which  case  he 
could  easily  regain  his  position  in  the  boat,  and  wait  until  the 
morning  sea-breeze  should  set  him  back  to  the  shore.  The  pro 
position  to  take  his  boat  in  tow  of  the  felucca  somewhat  disturb 
ed  his  plans ;  but  still  he  trusted  to  his  ability  to  maintain 
his  position  until  near  enough  to  the  shore,  and  then  to  quietly 
slip  his  hold  and  gain  a  landing  by  swimming.  There  was  the 
prospect  of  a  good  salt-water  drenching,  but  the  water  was 
warm,  the  surface  smooth,  the  air  balmy  and  delicious.  His, 
too,  were  a  constitution  and  a  frame  that  could  endure  any 
amount  of  exposure  to  the  elements ;  and,  as  to  the  muscular 
exertion  necessary  to  maintain  his  position,  his  body  was  so 
supported  by  the  water,  that  he  had  no  doubt  of  his  ability  to 
hold  on  for  four  or  five  hours  at  the  least.  Congratulating 
himself  upon  the  success  so  far  of  his  bold  experiment,  he  sur 
rendered  himself  with  good  heart  to  be  towed  back  to  land. 


ATALEOFMOROCCO.  39 


CHAPTER    IV. 


STEADILY  the  crew  of  the  felucca  tugged  at  their  oars,  but 
with  such  a  drag  upon  their  efforts,  as  the  boat  with  the 
body  of  the  young  Englishman  hanging  from  the  stern,  their 
movements  through  the  water  were  necessarily  slow.  The 
uncommon  degree  of  resistance  arising  from  an  apparently 
light,  empty  boat,  at  length  began  to  attract  attention,  which 
would  probably  have  resulted  in  an  investigation  into  the 
cause ;  but  luckily  the  eyes  of  all  on  board  the  felucca  were 
suddenly  drawn  to  a  large  vessel  lying  close  to  on  their  lar 
board  bow.  So  rapidly  and  imperceptibly  had  she  glided 
down  upon  them,  that  she  seemed  almost  to  have  started  up 
from  the  bosom  of  the  ocean,  like  some  marine  apparition — 
the  ghost  of  a  galley — long,  low,  lateen-rigged,  with  three 
masts,  and  capable  of  rowing,  when  necessary,  full  forty  hea 
vy  sweeps. 

The  crew  of  the  felucca  involuntarily  rested  on  their  oars. 
For  a  few  moments  all  was  dark  and  silent  aboard  the  strange 
craft.  Suddenly  a  hoarse  hail,  in  Spanish,  came  across  the 
water. 

"  Boat  ahoy  !  what  boat  is  that  ]  Come  along-side  of  us. 
I  wish  to  speak  to  you !" 


40  THE     BERBER. 

A  shudder  ran  through  the  crew  of  the  felucca,  as  the  omi 
nous  order  fell  upon  their  ears.  The  command  was  given  in 
good  Spanish,  but  there  was  some  slight  peculiarity  of  tone 
and  pronunciation  that,  combined  with  the  suspicious  looks  of 
the  strange  craft,  instantaneously  carried  conviction  and  con 
sternation  to  each  heart  on  board  of  the  felucca. 

"  Los  piratos  /"  whispered  one ;  "  Los  Moros  ! — Santa  Ma 
ria  purisima  ! — the  Moors  !  the  Moors  !" 

"  Stretch  out — for  your  lives ! — while  I  will  cast  off  the 
boat,"  exclaimed  Don  Diego,  his  teeth  fairly  chattering  with 
fear. 

The  men  dropped  their  sweeps  into  the  water,  and  threw 
their  whole  weight  and  strength  with  desperate  energy  upon 
them,  while  Don  Diego,  with  shaking  hands,  endeavored  in 
vain  to  undo  the  knot  fastening  the  painter  of  the  boat  to  the 
stern  of  the  felucca.  He  drew  his  dagger  to  cut  the  rope ;  but, 
in  his  agitation  it  fell  from  his  hand.  Before  he  could  recover 
it,  the  sharp  report  of  a  brass  culverin,  from  the  forecastle  of 
the  strange  galley,  made  him  drop  beside  it,  paralyzed  with 
terror.  The  ball,  striking  the  water  a  few  yards  from  the 
felucca,  and  rebounding,  dashed  an  oar-blade  to  splinters,  and 
passed  on  directly  over  the  heads  of  the  panic-stricken  crew. 

"  Malditos  perros  /"  shouted  the  voice  from  the  galley,  "  un 
believing  dogs — hounds — Kaffirs — do  you  dare  !  Round  to  this 
instant,  and  come  along-side,  or  I'll  blow  your  boat  out  of  the 
water !" 

There  was  no  escape.  A  few  strokes  of  the  oars  put  the 
felucca  along-side  of  the  galley,  and  directly  beneath  the  eyes 
of  a  formidable  row  of  fellows,  in  high  fez-caps,  who  were  look- 


AT A LEOF     MOROCCO.  41 

ing  over  the  low  bulwarks.  With  sundry  imprecations,  in  Spa 
nish  and  Arabic,  Don  Diego  and  his  companions  were  ordered 
on  deck,  where  after  undergoing  a  slight  examination  as  to  their 
character  and  circumstances,  before  the  Bash  sota  Rais.  or  first 
lieutenant  of  the  galley,  the  sailors  were  chained  to  several 
oars  that  happened  to  be  wanting  their  usual  complement  of 
men ;  while  the  don  and  his  agents,  the  familiars  of  the  Holy 
Office,  were  stripped  of  their  arms  and  most  of  their  clothing, 
manacled,  and  thrust,  with  no  very  tender  regard  to  their 
bones,  down  into  a  hole  under  the  forecastle. 

In  the  meantime.  Edward  taking  advantage  of  the  darkness, 
and  of  the  fact  that  the  stern  of  his  boat  was  close  in  under 
the  counter  of  the  galley,  let  go  his  hold,  and  with  a  single 
stroke  of  his  arms  gained  the  rudder,  where  holding  on  by 
the  rope-gammoning — that  instead  of  iron-pintals  served  to 
fasten  the  rudder  to  the  stern-post — he  resolved  to  await  the 
movements  of  the  Moors  in  relation  to  the  boats.  Should  they 
cut  them  adrift,  he  held  himself  in  readiness  to  float  off  quietly 
in  time  so  as  not  to  lose  sight  of  them,  and  when  at  a  proper 
distance,  to  regain  one  of  them  by  swimming.  Luckily  the 
young  man's  resolution  contemplated  the  possibility  of  the 
boats  being  detained  by  the  pirates,  and  his  change  of  position 
from  the  stern  of  his  own  boat  to  the  rudder  of  the  galley  was 
effected  just  in  time.  After  securing  their  prisoners,  the 
Moorish  captain  ordered  the  felucca  to  be  stripped,  of  sails 
and  oars.  A  few  blows  with  an  axe  knocked  a  hole  through 
her  planking  below  the  water  line,  and  she  was  cast  off  to  fill 
and  sink,  while  the  small  boat  was  hauled  along-side  and 
hoisted  on  board. 


42  THEBERBER. 

The  situation  of  Edward  was  now,  to  him  at  least,  one  of 
peculiar  interest.  In  tow  of  the  felucca,  his  mind  had  been 
almost  wholly  concentrated  upon  the  one  single  chance  of  es 
cape;  but,  perched  on  the  rudder  of  a  Salee  rover,  there  was 
mingled,  with  a  certain  sense  of  security  for  the  present  and 
apprehension  for  the  future,  a  decided  sentiment  of  curiosity 
as  to  the  next  movement  in  the  march  of  his  fate. 

What  was  to  be  the  termination  of  his  adventures  ?  How 
was  he  to  escape  from  his  present  position ?  He  knew  not ; 
but  he  resolved  to  quietly  await  events  until  morning,  and  if 
nothing  happened  in  the  meantime,  then  to  drop  into  the 
water,  stretch  out  from  the  galley,'  hail  her,  and  be  picked 
up  as  if  from  a  shipwreck.  In  this  way  he  should  enlist  in  his 
favor  whatever  of  humanity  the  pirates  might  possess. 

The  commotion  in  the  cruiser  occasioned  by  the  capture 
of  the  boats  gradually  subsided.  The  wind  freshened  a  little, 
and  the  pirates  eased  off  their  sheets — standing  down  the 
coast,  but  heading  a  little  more  off  the  land.  A  light  streamed 
from  the  cabin- windows  of  the  galley.  By  the  occasional 
shadows  mingled  with  the  flickering  reflection  on  the  water 
astern,  Edward  could  perceive  that  several  persons  were 
moving  about  in  the  cabin.  At  length  all  was  motionless — 
one  shadow,  however,  in  which  the  young  man  could  easily 
trace  the  outline  of  a  head  and  shoulders,  rested  upon  the 
illuminated  space  of  waters.  Some  one  was  seated  at  the 
open  port  above  him — who  could  it  be? — Was  it  the  cap 
tain  of  the  corsair?  Edward  felt  his  curiosity  aroused,  and 
instinctively  he  extended  his  hand  to  grasp  the  heavy  mouldings 
on  the  raking  stern  above  him.  His  motions  were  arrested 

T-vtr    o    "|/\"CTT    *tTr\T/i£*      lacminrr    TI*^TV»      "f  no    T^r\T»^-   « 


A    TALE     OF    MOROCCO.  43 

"  En  Paris  esta  Dona  Alda,  la  espousa  de  Dou  Roldan, 
Trecientas  damas  con  ella,  para  la  accompanar 
Todas  visten  un  vestido,  todas  caiman  un  calgar." 

"  In  Paris  sits  the  lady  that  shall  be  Sir  Roland's  bride  ; 
Three  hundred  damsels  with  her,  her  bidding  to  abide  : 
All  clothed  in  the  same  fashion,  both  the  mantle  and  the  shoon, — 
All  eating  at  one  table  within  her  hall  at  noon." 

It  was  an  old  and  familiar  ballad  of  his  childhood — the  first 
Spanish  song  that  his  mother  had  learned  after  her  arrival  at 
Cadiz,  and  one  that  she  had  frequently  sung  to  her  children. 
Edward's  desire  to  take  a  look  at  the  singer  was  enhanced 
ten-fold.  At  this  moment  the  head  was  withdrawn  from  the 
port,  and  the  lamplight  streamed  clear  again  upon  the  glanc 
ing  waters  of  the  galley's  wake. 

By  clinging  to  the  mouldings  of  the  stern,  and  supporting 
his  feet  upon  the  head  or  shoulder  rather  of  the  rudder,  Edward 
was  enabled  to  reach  nearly  to  what  was  really  the  taffrail  of 
the  galley,  and  above  which  were  the  windows  of  the  light 
poop-cabin.  Directly  upon  this  taffrail  was  stepped  the  small 
mast  supporting  the  hindermost  of  the  three  latteen  yards. 
From  the  belaying-pins  above  hung  the  end  of  one  of  the 
halyards,  within  tempting  proximity  to  his  hand.  By  letting 
go  his  hold  upon  the  mouldings,  he  could  easily  grasp  it,  and 
haul  himself  up  to  the  ledge  of  the  taffrail  on  a  level  with  the 
cabin  windows.  Should  he  attempt  it  ?  What  if  the  rope 
should  give  way,  and  let  him  into  the  water  1  What  if  he 
should  be  discovered  by  the  inmate  of  the  cabin,  or  by  some 
one  on  the  deck  above  ?  He  withdrew  himself  to  his  original 
position  in  the  rudder  chains,  and  turned  the  argument  over 


44  THE     BERBER. 

in  his  mind.     Again  he  heard  a  deep  low  voice  humming  the 
familiar  air : 

"  En  Paris  esta  Dona  Alda,  la  espousa  de  Don  Roldan." 

Creeping  up  again  by  the  mouldings,  the  young  man  poised 
his  body  for  a  moment,  and  then  watching  the  slight  lurching 
motion  of  the  vessel,  let  go  his  hold  and  sprang  at  the  rope. 
His  grasp  was  successful,  and  the  rope  proved  to  be  firmly 
fastened  above.  Waiting  until  the  oscillations  occasioned  by 
the  projection  of  his  body  from  beneath  the  raking  stern  had 
ceased,  he  quietly  drew  himself  up  four  or  five  feet,  when  he 
found  no  difficulty  in  transferring  himself  from  the  rope  to  the 
ledge  of  the  taffrail,  and  directly  between  the  two  windows  of 
the  cabin ;  and  all  this  with  so  little  noise  or  disturbance  as 
to  have  excited  no  attention  from  either  cabin  or  deck. 

Naturally  reckless  and  adventurous,  Edward  felt  quite 
elated  at  the  success  so  far  of  the  movement  he  had  made. 
His  spirits  rose  with  his  elevation  above  the  increasing  swell 
of  the  ocean,  and  in  congratulating  himself  upon  his  dry  and 
secure  seat,  he  almost  forgot  the  danger  of  the  first  part  of 
the  night,  'or  the  apprehension  of  the  consequences  of  dis 
covery  when  the  morning  should  break.  His  position  was 
one  of  decided  advantage  :  seated  on  the  taffrail,  and  supported 
by  a  grasp  upon  the  foot  of  the  mizzen-mast,  but  concealed  by 
the  slightly  raking  rise  of  the  cabin  from  view  above  deck, 
he  had  but  to  lean  a  little  on  either  side  to  look  into  the  two 
open  ports  from  which  streamed  the  bright  lamplight. 

Cautiously  he  lowered  himself  till  his  eyes  commanded  a 
view  of  the  interior.  It  was  a  small  apartment,  about  ten 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  45 

or  twelve  feet  square.  In  front,  a  silken  curtain  looped  aside, 
showed  a  small  door  opening  apparently  into  a  forward  cabin ; 
on  either  side  were  arched  recesses,  canopied  and  shaded  by 
curtains,  in  which  were  placed  low  couches.  A  thick  Moorish 
carpet,  of  brilliant  colors,  covered  the  floor,  the  centre  of 
which  was  occupied  by  a  low  table  hardly  a  foot  in  height. 
Above  this  table,  suspended  from  one  of  the  carlings,  hung 
a  large  copper  lamp.  Upon  the  table  lay  several  books,  some 
in  manuscript  and  mounted  upon  gilded  rollers,  and  others 
evidently  in  print,  from  their  Spanish  bindings.  At  one  angle 
of  the  low  table  was  a  pile  of  gilt  Morocco  cushions,  and  upon 
these  reclined,  in  an  easy  attitude,  the  sole  occupant  of  the 
cabin. 

He  was  a  young  man  of  twenty-five  or  six  years,  dressed 
in  Moorish  garb.  Leaning  with  one  elbow  upon  the  low 
table,  he  was  intently  engaged  in  poring  over  a  large  volume 
that  was  open  before  him.  His  side-face  was  turned  to  the 
stern  port,  and  the  bright  light  of  the  lamp  foiling  full  upon  his 
features,  revealed  them  with  perfect  distinctness  to  the  fasci 
nated  gaze  of  the  young  Englishman.  There  was  the  high 
square  forehead  set  off  by  the  folds  of  a  turban  of  red  silk — 
there  were  the  straight  brows — the  aquiline  nose — the  well- 
turned  mouth — the  full  brown  beard — the  bronzed  but  ruddy 
cheeks — in  fact  the  very  features  and  expression  of  Edward 
himself.  Like  an  electric  flash,  the  conviction  that  he  saw 
before  him  his  brother — his  long-lost  twin-brother — burst  upon 
Edward's  mind,  sending  the  blood  tingling  to  every  vein, 
and  making  his  laboring  heart  beat  audibly  beneath  the  over 
whelming  rush  of  feeling. 


46  THEBERBEB. 

The  Moor  raised  his  eyes  from  the  volume,  threw  himself 
back  upon  the  cushions,  and  for  a  moment  appeared  lost  in 
thought — 

"  En  Paris  esta  Dona  Alda,  la  espousa  de  Don  Roldan," 

he  sang  in  a  low  voice  that  had,  to  Edward's  ear,  something 
more  than  familiar  in  it — it  seemed  almost  as  if  he  were  singing 
himself.  There  was  no  longer  a  doubt.  That  turbaned  and 
caftaned  singer  could  be  none  other  than  the  long-lost  Henry 
Carlyle. 

The  first  impulse  of  the  young  Englishman  was  to  thrust 
himself  through  the  open  port,  and  grasp  the  singer's  hand ; 
but  would  he  recollect  his  brother  ]  Would  he  acknowledge 
the  tie  of  blood  ?  Would  the  heart  of  the  Mohammedan  open 
itself  to  a  reviler  of  the  Prophet  ? 

Pausing  until  he  could  command  his  voice,  Edward  turned 
over  in  his  mind  a  dozen  different  plans  and  modes  of  making 
his  presence  known  to  his  unconscious  relative,  but  at  last  he 
concluded  that  the  most  direct  way  would  be  the  best.  Keep 
ing  his  head  concealed  in  shadow,  he  applied  his  mouth  to  an 
angle  of  the  port,  and,  in  a  low  voice,  uttered  his  brother's 
name, 

"  Henry  !  Henry  Carlyle  !" 

The  reclining  figure  started  to  his  feet,  his  handsome  fea 
tures  expressing  the  height  of  astonishment  and  awe. 

"  What  name  is  that  ?  who  calls  V  he  demanded,  in  Spa 
nish,  at  the  same  time  instinctively  stretching  out  his  arm  to 
a  jewel-hilted  sabre  that  hung  against  the  rudder  casing. 

"  'Tis  I— Edward— the  brother  of  Henry  Carlyle !" 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  47 

The  Moor  took  a  step  towards  the  window  and  stopped, 
bending  forward  in  an  eager  but  hesitating  attitude. 

"  Edward  ?"  he  whispered ;  "  do  I  dream  ?  yes,  his  name 
was  Edward.  Ah !  what  memories  come  over  me ;  and  mine 
— mine  was  Henry Henry  Carlyle  !" 

"  Listen,  then,"  replied  Edward ;  "  'tis  no  spirit  from  the 
dead  who  is  addresing  you  ;  'tis  your  brother.  You  remember 
playing  on  the  beach  above  Rota ;  the  Moors  came  upon  you 
and  carried  you  off;  'tis  many  years  since  you  saw  your 
brother ;  think  you  that  you  would  know  him  if  you  should 
see  him  again  ?" 

';  Ha !  this  is  no  dream,"  muttered  the  Moor  to  himself; 
"my  brain  is  clear, -and  that  voice  strikes  upon  my  ear  as  dis 
tinctly  as  if  it  were  a  human  voice.  Surely  this  must  be 
what  the  Moors  so  dread — a  visitation — a  temptation.  Know 
my  brother?"  continued  the  speaker,  raising  his  voice,  "know 
Edward  ?  at  once — among  ten  thousand." 

';  Look  at  him  then,"  and  Edward,  turning  and  clinging  to 
the  port-sill,  thrust  his  head  through  the  window  into  the 
bright  lamp-light. 

Instantly  the  gleam  of  steel  flashed  upon  his  eyes.  "  Bis- 
millah !  in  the  name  of  God,"  exclaimed  the  Moor,  and  step 
ping  forward,  he  swung  his  cimeter  lightly  in  the  air,  and 
directed  a  blow  full  at  Edward's  defenceless  head.  Luckily 
the  cabin  was  low,  and  the  blow  was  partly  arrested  by  the 
carlings  above,  and  by  the  rudder-case  at  the  side,  but  still, 
descending  with  considerable  force,  the  keen  blade  glanced 
along  the  bones  of  the  temple,  inflicting  a  savage-looking 
wound,  from  which  spouted  the  blood  in  torrents. 


48  THEBERBER. 

4 

The  Moor  did  not  repeat  the  stroke,  although  Edward 
somewhat  stunned  by  the  unexpected  blow,  fell  forward  across 
the  port-sill,  arid  presented  a  still  fairer  mark.  With  an  air  of 
increasing  astonishment,  he  stood  gazing  at  the  flowing  blood, 
while  Edward,  recovering  himself,  but  faint  and  giddy,  raised 
his  discolored  face  and  looked  at  him  with  a  most  reproachful 
but  affectionate  glance;  "Henry!  dear  Henry!"  he  mur 
mured." 

"You  are  not  then  a  djin?  an  afrite?  a  vision  of  sheitan?" 
eagerly  demanded  the  Moor. 

"  I  am  your  brother ! — flesh  and  blood — your  own  twin- 
brother,"  replied  Edward,  dropping  his  head  again,  and  clutch 
ing,  with  uncertain  grasp,  upon  the  side  of  the  port,  to  keep 
himself  from  falling. 

Henry — for  we  may  now  call  him  so,  at  least  until  we  get 
a  more  distinctive  name — advanced  a  step  and  stretching  out 
his  arm  touched  his  brother's  hand  just  as  the  relaxing  mus 
cles  were  giving  way.  The  instant  that  he  did  so  all  uncer 
tainty  seemed  to  vanish  from  his  mind.  Flinging  aside  his 
cimeter,  he  rapidly  passed  his  arm  out  of  the  port,  encircled 
his  brother's  form,  and  drew  him  quickly  but  gently  through 
the  window  into  the  cabin.  He  stretched  him  upon  the  cush 
ions,  and  then,  like  one  accustomed  to  wounds,  he  proceeded 
to  staunch  the  bleeding,  which  he  easily  did,  by  restoring  the 
divided  scalp  to  its  place,  and  securing  it  by  several  folds  of 
the  turban  that  he  unwound  from  his  own  head.  A  vessel  of 
water  stood  within  reach.  The  Moor  applied  it  to  his  brother's 
lips.  Edward's  insensibility  was  the  result  rather  of  the  sud 
den  shock  to  the  nervous  system,  than  of  loss  of  blood.  It  was 


A    TALK    OF    MOROCCO.  49 

the  slight  faintness  that  even  the  strongest  frames  will  some 
times  feel  when  wounded,  and  the  taste  of  the  water  instantly 
revived  him.  Edward  sat  up,  and  taking  his  brother's  hand, 
looked  him  calmly  in  the  face.  Henry  kneeled  upon  the  cush 
ions,  returned  his  brother's  grasp,  and  gazed  upon  him  long 
and  steadily. 

It  was  a  striking  picture — those  two  brothers,  so  alike,  yet 

so  different — so  long  separated,  and  so  strangely  re-united 

as  they  sat  thus,  hand  in  hand,  gazing  at  each  other  with  looks 
of  mingled  wonder,  curiosity  and  affection. 

At  length  the  Moorish  brother  spoke,  as  if  in  answer  to 
Edward's  look ;  "  I  thought  you  were  a  djin,  an  evil  spirit  that 
is  permitted  to  assume  the  form  and  voice  of  mortals,  to  tempt 
us  to  destruction.  My  companions  talk  much  of  them,  and 
they  say  that  the  only  way  to  receive  them  is  with  a  blow  of 
the  cimeter,  when  they  will  vanish.  You  are  no  djin— no 
spirit— I  feel  your  heart  beat— I  have  seen  your  blood  flow  !" 
and  the  Moorish  brother  placed  his  arm  over  Edward's  neck, 
and  pressed  him  to  his  breast. 

"But  if  you  are  no  djin,"  he  exclaimed,  suddenly  starting 
and  withdrawing  his  arm,  « tell  me  how  it  is  that  you  are 
here  ?  Whence  came  you  ?  By  what  means  ?" 

"Listen,  dearest  Henry,"  replied  Edward,  "and  I  will 
quiet  all  your  doubts.  You  shall  know  how  unexpectedly  and 
strangely,  but  how  easily  and  naturally  it  happens  that  I  find 
myself  here.  And  then  you  shall  tell  me  your  story.  You 
must  recollect  that,  although  I  apprehend  nothing  of  the  super- 
natural  in  it,  your  being  here  is  as  much  a  matter  of  curiosity 
and  wonder  to  me  as  my  presence  can  be  to  you." 

3 


50  THEBERBER. 

Edward  ran  over  the  principal  circumstances  that  had 
conspired  to  place  him  in  his  present  position.  He  spoke  of 
his  father ;  of  his  own  life  in  England ;  his  recent  return  to 
Cadiz;  of  his  relations  to  Isabel;  of  the  jealousy  of  Don 
Diego  ;  of  his  adventurous  visit  to  the  quinta  of  the  Guada- 
lete ;  the  chase ;  his  expedient  to  escape ;  and  his  change  of 
position  from  the  stern  of  the  small  boat  to  the  rudder  of  the 
galley.  He  spoke  of  his  feelings  when  his  brother's  familiar 
voice  came  to  his  ear — and  that  voice  singing  a  ballad  of  his 
childhood ;  of  his  climbing  from  the  rudder  to  the  taffrail ; 
and  of  the  overruling  conviction  of  his  brother's  identity,  that 
rushed  upon  him  at  sight  of  his  features. 

The  Moor  listened  to  his  brother's  tale  with  an  expression 
of  increasing  tenderness  and  interest,  until  Edward  came  to 
where  he  plunged  overboard  to  avoid  the  felucca,  when  all 
doubts  seemed  at  once  to  vanish,  and  he  again  passed  his  arm 
around  his  brother,  and  gazed  in  silence  into  his  face.  As 
Edward  finished,  he  deliberately  pressed  him  to  his  heart, 
kissed  him  several  times  on  eyes,  cheeks  and  hands,  and 
uttering  a  profession  of  somewhat  stately  but  hearty  terms  of 
endearment,  he  expressed  his  sorrow  for  the  hostile  attitude 
he  had  at  first  assumed. 

"I  was  thinking  of  you  at  the  very  instant  when  you  spoke," 
said  Henry.  "  Could  I  doubt  that  it  was  some  evil  spirit  that 
had  come  to  mock  me  ?  But  never  before  did  I  believe  in 
djins,  though  the  Moors  are  continually  seeing  them ;  and  I  am 
sure  now  I  never  shall  again.  But  come,  you  must  change  your 
wet  clothes ;  here  are  dry  garments  of  the  Moorish  fashion, 
you  need  feel  none  the  less  like  a  Christian  in  them,  than  if 
thev  were  made  in  Cadiz. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  51 

"And  now,  oh  son  of  my  mother!"  continued  Henry, 
placing  the  cushion  beneath  his  brother's  reclining  figure, 
"  you  are  anxious  to  hear  something  of  my  history  :  answer 
me  tirst,  however,  one  question — you  have  mentioned  the 
name  of  but  one  of  our  parents — What  of  the  other  ?  \Vhat 
of  my  mother? 

"  She  is  in  heaven  !"  replied  Edward. 

The  Moorish  brother  covered  his  face  for  a  moment  with 
his  hand.  "  God  is  great !"  he  exclaimed,  raising  his  head 
and  speaking  in  a  calm  voice,  but  with  a  slight  quivering  of 
the  lip  that  betokened  the  deep  emotion  within.  "  God  is 
great !  and  thus  passes  the  chief  hope  of  my  life.  I'll  question 
you  further  of  this  some  other  time.  Now,  I  will  tell  you  my 
story,  for  which  a  few  words  will  suffice. 

"  Hast  ever  heard,"  continued  the  speaker,  "  of  Hassan 
Herach  ?" 

"  What,  the  Salee  rover  ?  the  terror  of  the  seas  ?  the  dread 
of  the  Spaniards  for  miles  inland  ]  Yes,  I  have  heard  of  him. 
I  have  heard  a  Spanish  mother  still  her  crying  infant  with  his 
name  in  the  heart  of  Castile." 

"  Well,  and  now  you  see  him,"  replied  Henry,  "  I  am 
Hassan  Herach.  Listen,  and  I  will  tell  you  how,  by  God's 
will,  I  came  to  be  so." 

But  it  will  be,  perhaps,  less  tedious  to  give  the  substance 
of  Hassan's  story  than  his  exact  words,  and  to  this  purpose 
we  shall  devote  the  commencement  of  a  new  chapter. 


52  THEBERBER. 


CHAPTER  V. 


"  Leave  the  determination  of  our  course  to  the  winds,"  re 
plied  Genseric  to  his  pilots  when  departing  from  the  ports  of 
Barbary  upon  one  of  his  frequent  piratical  expeditions  to  the 
northern  shores  of  the  Mediterranean.  "  They  will  conduct  us 
to  the  guilty  coasts  whose  inhabitants  have  provoked  the  jus 
tice  of  Heaven."  Genseric  was  an  Arian,  and  religious  hate 
animated  the  barbarian  monarch  and  his  Vandalic  and  Moorish 
followers  in  their  desolating  forays  upon  the  coasts  of  the 
Italian  peninsula  and  islands,  as  much  as  a  love  of  plunder  or 
a  thirst  for  blood.  To  him  succeeded  a  still  more  bigoted, 
ferocious  and  piratical  race,  who,  even  more  than  Genseric, 
imagined  themselves  the  instruments  of  divine  vengeance 
against  the  Christians,  and  the  authorised  punishers  of  all  who 
denied  the  sanctity  of  the  Prophet.  For  several  centuries 
their  corsairs,  varying  in  numbers  and  in  energy  with  the 
varying  political  circumstances  of  Europe  and  Barbary,  swept 
the  narrow  seas  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  carried  terror  and 
dismay  to  the  hearts  of  all  the  dwellers  by  the  shore.  It  was 
not,  however,  the  littoral  towns  and  villages  alone  that  suffered. 
Like  the  great  pirate  we  have  mentioned,  whose  bands  for 
fourteen  days  and  nights  revelled  amid  the  despoiled  palaces 


AT A LEOF     MOROCCO.  53 

and  temples  of  imperial  Rome,  the  Mohammedan  corsairs  of 
Barbaiy  frequently  extended  their  excursions  to  some  distance 
inland,  sacking  and  burning  villages  and  even  cities,  and 
securing  and  carrying  off  their  plunder  and  slaves  before  a 
force  could  be  assembled  to  prevent  or  punish. 

Nor  were  their  depredations  confined  to  the  Mediterranean. 
In  1585  the  famous  Morat  Rais  led  the  way  into  the  Atlantic 
and  plundered  the  Island  of  Lancerote,  one  of  the  Canaries. 
Following  his  example,  the  Algerine  and  Neapolitan  cruisers 
frequently  passed  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar,  while  the  rovers 
of  Morocco,  issuing  from  their  western  ports,  swept  the  ocean 
with  unflagging  energy  from  the  Cape  de  Verds  to  the  English 
Channel.  They  even  extended  their  depredations  to  the  shores 
of  the  Baltic  and  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland ;  and  upon  one 
occasion  visited  Iceland  and  carried  off  several  hundred 
captives. 

In  the  present  day  we  can  only  wonder  that  such  a  system 
of  depredation  should  have  been  tolerated  by  the  Christian 
powers  of  Europe,  and  that,  too,  down  until  within  half  a  cen 
tury  of  our  own  time ;  but  the  disgraceful  fact  is,  no  doubt, 
attributable  to  the  jealousies  of  the  great  nations,  and  to  their 
almost  continual  wars,  to  which,  in  addition  to  the  millions  of 
deaths,  and  vast  amount  of  misery  thus  directly  caused,  must  be 
charged  the  sufferings  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of  both  sexes 
and  all  ages,  who  in  consequence  of  these  wars  were  allowed 
to  be  torn  from  country  and  friends,  and  drag  out  their  mise 
rable  existence  as  slaves  among  the  Christian-hating  fanatics  of 
Barbary. 

At  no  time,  from  the  days  of  Genseric,  had  the  depreda- 


54  THEBERBER. 

tions  of  the  corsairs  of  Morocco  been  prosecuted  with  greater 
energy  and  boldness,  especially  upon  the  coasts  of  Spain,  than 
during  the  half  century  previous  to  the  date  of  our  story.  In 
the  days  of  the  Barbarossas  and  the  famous  corsairs  Drub-devil 
and  Dragut  Rais,  piracy  within  the  straits  was  conducted,  it 
is  true,  on  a  grander  scale :  whole  fleets  issuing  from  the 
ports  of  Algiers,  Tunis,  and  Tripoli,  sanctifying,  or  at  least 
dignifying  their  expeditions  with  the  pretensions  of  regular 
war.  The  ports  of  Morocco,  however,  were  always  too  small 
to  admit  the  formation  of  large  fleets,  and  the  exertions  of 
maritime  adventurers  were  necessarily  confined  to  single  cruis 
ers,  or  at  most  to  small  squadrons  of  two  or  three  galleys. 

It  was  upon  a  visit  of  one  of  the  corsairs  issuing  from  the 
famous  port  of  Salee  to  the  coast  of  Spain,  that,  as  we  have 
said,  the  young  son  of  the  English  merchant  was  seized  and 
carried  off.  The  captain  of  the  galley  was  renowned  for  his 
cruelty  and  his  bitter  hatred  of  the  Christians,  but  there  was 
something  in  the  appearance  of  Henry  Carlyle  that  touched 
the  latent  sensibilities  of  the  old  Moor's  heart ;  and  instead  of 
ordering  him  to  be  stripped  of  his  fine  clothes,  and  confined  with 
the  other  captives,  he  took  the  terrified  boy  into  his  cabin,  and 
with  unceasing  assiduity  endeavored  for  weeks  and  months  to 
sooth  his  distress  and  to  reconcile  him  to  his  change  of  life. 

And  not  without  success  were  the  exertions  of  his  captor.- 
Henry  was  too  young  and  too  impressible  not  to  yield  him 
self  readily  to  the  influences  at  work  upon  him ;  and  before  the 
cruise  was  half  over  he  had  become  quite  reconciled  to  his 
fate.  The  Moorish  officers  were  invariably  kind  to  him  ;  as 
much  so  for  his  own  sake,  as  in  obedience  to  the  expressed 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  55 

wishes  of  their  grim  captain,  who  had  announced  his  intention 
of  adopting  the  child  as  his  own  son.  With  the  men,  Henry- 
soon  became  a  general  favorite — making  equal  progress  in  their 
language  and  their  affections.  They  were  delighted  with  his 
good  looks,  his  activity  and  strength,  and  especially  with  his 
religion.  Not  being  a  Roman  Catholic,  they  could  hardly  be 
lieve  that  he  was  a  Christian  ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  it  was 
clear  that  he  was  not  a  Mohammedan,  and  therefore  a  tempt 
ing  prize  to  the  active  proselyting  desires  of  the  disciples  of 
the  Prophet.  This  invested  him  with  a  degree  of  interest 
which  for  no  orthodox  Moorish  juvenile  could  have  been 
aroused. 

Happily  or  otherwise,  as  the  reader  may  think,  the  child  had 
imbibed  no  strong  prejudices  against  the  Moors.  Had  he  been 
of  Spanish  parentage,  he  would  have  learned  equally  to  fear 
and  detest  them  ;  but  his  parents  were  English  and  Protestant, 
and  what  had  been  excited,  in  his  little  breast,  of  national  and 
religious  animosity,  was  directed  mainly  against  the  Papists  of 
Spain.  On  the  one  hand,  he  had  often  seen  his  father's  counte 
nance  troubled,  and  his  temper  aroused  at  some  act  of  impos 
ture  or  injustice,  some  impertinent  interference  in  his  business, 
or  some  unwarrantable  exaction  upon  his  gains ;  while  on  the 
other,  his  imagination  was  often  excited  by  his  mother's  de 
scription  of  the  glories  of  Spain,  under  the  Moors,  and  his 
sympathies  aroused  for  the  unfortunate  followers  of  the  Pro 
phet  by  her  glowing  stories  of  the  sufferings  attending  their 
final  subjection  and  expulsion.  Dislike  of  the  Spaniards  who 
were  around  her,  added  to  the  strong  prejudice  entertained  in 
that  age  by  all  of  her  countrymen  for  the  nation  that  had 


56  T  II  E     B  E  R  B  E  R  . 

loaded  a  fleet  with  instruments  of  torture  for  English  heretics, 
made  her  sympathize  deeply  with  the  former  masters  of  An- 
'  daluasia,  and  she  loved  to  sing  old  Moorish  ballads,  and  to 
dwell  upon  the  days  when  the  land,  in  its  whole  length,  was 
cultivated  like  a  garden — when  Andalusia  boasted  of  its  se 
venty  public  libraries,  and  Cordova  alone  could  show  its  list  of 
over  two  hundred  authors  of  repute. 

Judging  from  his  dress,  and  other  indications,  that  the 
wealth  of  his  parents  would  enable  them  to  exert  every  influ 
ence  for  the  recovery  of  their  child,  and  that  most  probably 
the  soltan  himself  would  be  induced  to  take  an  interest  in 
the  affair,  the  captain  of  the  corsair  immediately  upon  the  ar 
rival  of  his  galley  at  Salee  despatched  his  prize  to  a  distant, 
half  Berber,  half  Arabic  village,  in  the  mountains  of  Tedla, 
where,  for  two  years,  he  was  kept  closely  concealed.  At  the 
end  of  this  period  the  Moorish  captain,  having  ascertained  from 
the  Spanish  friars  of  the  Redemption,  at  Mequinez,  that  all 
search  for  him  had  been  abandoned,  he  was  taken  back  to  Sa 
lee,  where,  for  some  time,  he  was  kept  under  the  tuition  of 
a  pious  Mollah.  The  instructions  of  the  worthy  expounder 
of  the  Koran  were  thought  essential,  inasmuch  as  his  reli 
gious  education  had  been  sacrificed  to  the  necessity  of  conceal 
ing  him  from  the  energetic  search  of  his  friends ;  and  he  had 
been  allowed  to  run  wild  with  the  boys  of  a  Berber  village, 
that,  like  a  few  other  places  in  the  mountains  of  Atlas,  was 
suspected  of  retaining  a  remnant  of  paganism,  or  still  worse, 
of  Christianity. 

When  sufficiently  instructed  in  the  language  and  doctrines 
of  the  Koran,  he  was  taken,  in  grand  procession,  to  the  Mosque, 


ATALEOFMOROCCO.  57 

and  with  the  customary  ceremonies,  confirmed  in  the  true  faith. 
From  this  time  he  accompanied  his  so-called  father,  in  his 
voyages,  and  was  engaged  in  numerous  adventures  off  the  coast 
of  Spain  and  Portugal,  which,  it  is  not  necessary  here  to  re 
late.  He  hated  the  Spaniards,  and  he  hated  Papists — while 
he  had  just  enough  Mohammedanism  to  overlay  his  unformed 
notions  of  Protestant  Christianity,  and  to  make  him  skeptical 
in  all  matters  of  religious  belief. 

A  few  books  that  fell  into  his  hands,  and  the  occasional 
conversation  of  two  or  three  English  slaves,  kept  up  some 
recollection  of  his  mother's  tongue,  although  in  time  he  lost 
so  much  of  it  that  he  could  by  no  means  express  his  thoughts 
as  fluently  in  English  as  he  could  in  Spanish,  which  then,  as 
now,  owing  to  the  expulsion  of  the  Morescos  and  Jews  from 
Spain  and  their  settlement  in  Barbary,  was  almost  as  com 
mon  as  Arabic  in  the  seaport  towns. 

One  recollection,  however,  never  faded — the  recollection 
of  his  mother.  Language,  religion,  country,  all  grew  dim  and 
distant  on  the  waste  of  memory,  but  the  image  of  his  mother 
retained  its  brightness.  He  had  cherished  it  in  his  heart  of 
hearts. 

"Why  then,"  demanded  Edward,  breaking  in  upon  his 
brother's  story,  "Why  did  you  never  return  to  her?  Why 
did  you  never  seek  to  know  whether  she  still  lived  ?" 

"  'Twas  impossible,"  replied  Hassan — "  though  ever  lov 
ed  and  trusted,  I  have  always  been  closely  watched.  I  soon 
found  that  not  only  my  adopted  father,  but  all  the  Moors 
around  me  were  jealous  of  even  the  slightest  recollection  of 
my  early  boyhood." 

3* 


58  THE     BERBER. 

"  But  now — here — are  you  not  master?" demanded  Edward. 

"  The  soltan  in  his  court  at  Mequinez  has  not  more  un 
limited  and  despotic  power,"  replied  Hassan,  "  My  crew  obey 
me  as  the  veriest  slaves.  Upon  the  death  of  my  Moorish 
father,  some  three  years  since,  I  succeeded  to  the  command 
of  this  galley,  and  since  then  never  on  the  decks  of  this  craft ; 
aye,  or  even  in  the  streets  of  Salee,  has  a  breath  of  opposition 
dared  raise  itself  to  command  of  mine.  But  still  my  Christian 
origin  is  known,  and  although  no  one  dreams  of  any  Christian 
sympathies  on  my  part,  yet  I  have  ever  felt  that  I  could  take 
no  steps  to  ascertain  the  existence  of  my  parents  without  at 
once  arousing  suspicion;  and  suspicion  of  my  motives  once 
excited,  I  should  have  been  powerless.  I  should  have  sunk 
at  once  into  the  class  of  renegades — the  most  miserable,  help 
less,  and  closely  watched  subjects  of  the  soltan." 

"  But  did  you  never  meet  with  captives  from  Cadiz  ?"  in 
quired  Edward. 

"  Often,"  replied  Hassan,  "  but  never  with  one  who  could 
give  me  any  account  of  my  family,  and  not  one  to  whom  I 
dared  entrust  a  message." 

"  No,"  he  continued  after  a  pause,  "  it  would  have  been 
risking  too  much.  I  am  rais  or  captain  of  this  galley,  and 
my  true  policy  has  been  to  strengthen  myself  in  the  affec 
tions  and  admiration  of  those  I  command  until  my  motives 
of  action  should  become  questionless,  and  my  will  should 
become  law.  Then  the  means  of  opening  a  communication 
with  family  or  country  would  be  within  my  control.  Praise 
be  to  Allah,  that  time  has  nearly  arrived.  My  presence  here 
to-night  in  these  waters  is  a  marked  deviation  from  the  plan 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  59 

of  the  cruise  laid  out  for  the  galley.  I  made  it  in  hopes  of 
picking  up  some  boat  off  the  mouth  of  the  bay,  from  whose 
crew  I  might  perchance  learn  something  of  the  news  from 
Cadiz.  Little  did  I  dream  that  my  change  of  course  would 
be  rewarded  by  the  recovery  of  a  brother.  Allah  Akbar! 
Allah  Akbar f  God  is  great.  Oh,  thou  son  of  my  mother!" 
and  Hassan  again  threw  his  arms  affectionately  around  the 
reclining  form  of  his  brother. 

Starting  to  his  feet,  Hassan,  as  we  shall  in  future  call 
him,  looked  out  from  the  stern  port,  athwart  which  the  first 
faint  gleams  of  morning  were  beginning  to  dart. 

"Pardon  me,  O  thou  newly  found  half  .of  my  heart," 
he  exclaimed,  turning  to  his  brother,  ';I  thoughfr^not,  hpft" 
swiftly  time  was  passing.  You  need  both  food  and  res^.jftl 

Saying  tins,  he  unlocked  the  door  opening  into  the  for 
ward  cabin,  and  clapping  his  hands  thrice,  in  a  few  mo 
ments  a  negro,  habited  in  Moorish  garb,  drew  up  the  heavy 
wooden  latch  and  looked  in.  Holding  the  half  open  door  in 
hand,  he  was  in  the  act  of  shuffling  off  his  loose  yellow  slip 
pers  preparatory  to  entering,  when  his  motions  were  arrested 
by  the  sight  of  Edward  reclining  upon  the  cushions.  His  big 
eyes  dilated  with  wonder  as  they  turned  from  one  brother 
to  the  other.  An  impatient  gesture  from  his  master  made 
him  enter  and  close  the  door. 

'•  Selirn,"  said  the  rais,  speaking  in  Arabic,  "  you  see  my 
brother — no  matter  how  or  when  he  came — I  wish  his  coming 
to  remain  secret.  See  that  no  one  enters  this  apartment ;  I 
intrust  tin's  secret  to  your  charge,  and,  mark  you,  if  a  rumor  of 
it  reaches  the  men ;'  And  here  the  captain  made  a  signifi 
cant  gesture  with  his  hand  to  his  neck. 


CO 


THE     BERBER. 


Sclim  bowed  his  head  submissively. 

"  Worse  for  you?"  continued  the  captain,  "  you  know  that 
I  am  a  sorcerer." 

"Allah  alemf     God  knows,"  exclaimed  Selim. 

"  Yes,  and  you  know  too,  or  you  think  that  you  do,  Look 
at  those  books." 

Selim  rolled  his  eyes  over  the  table  and  shuddered. 

"  Well,  if  a  word  of  the  presence  of  my  brother  here  es 
capes  you,  I  shall  not  cut  off  your  head,  or  bow-string  you,  or 

burn  your   tongue   out,   but how  would  you  like  to  be 

turned  into  a  white  man  and  a  Christian  f 

"  Allah  forbid  !"  exclaimed  Selim,  raising  both  hands  to 
heaven,  and  rapidly  repeating  the  short  formula  of  Moham 
medan  faith. 

"  Go,  then,  and  may  your  lips  be  sealed  with  the  sig 
net  of  silence.  Go,  bring  food,  and  prepare  some  coffee — 
or  stay,  perhaps  my  brother  would  like  a  cup  of  the  great 
drink  of  the  Chinese.  Bring  hot  water  and  the  vessels  for 
tea." 

In  a  few  minutes,  Selim  returned  with  a  small  silver  urn, 
and  a  set  of  diminutive  cups  not  much  larger  than  thimbles. 
Placing  them  upon  the  table,  he  stepped  back  with  a  low 
saalam,  and  squatted  quietly  by  the  door,  while  his  master  pro 
ducing  a  small  canister  of  tea — an  article  then,  as  now,  in 
greater  favor  with  the  Moors  than  with  any  Christian  people, 
except  the  English,  although,  of  course,  less  in  vogue  then 
with  either,  than  in  the  present  day — and  turning  some  of  it 
directly  into  the  urn  of  hot  water,  proceeded  to  add  a  quantity 
of  coarse  white  sugar,  stirring  the  while,  and  pouring  in  the 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  61 

sugar  until  the  beverage  was  nearly  of  the  consistency  of  a 
syrup. 

Half  a  dozen  tiny  cups,  such  as  among  the  Maroquens  to 
this  day  are  the  fashion,  filled  with  this  beverage,  with  a  few 
rolls  of  wheaten  pan-cake  made  thin  as  a  wafer,  and  fried  in 
a  mixture  of  honey  and  butter,  sufficed  for  the  young  Eng 
lishman.  It  was  not  much  that  he  ate  or  drank,  but  it  was 
enough  to  restore  his  own  strength,  and  to  reassure  the 
staring  Selim,  dissipating  his  doubts  as  to  the  corporeal  na 
ture  of  the  young  stranger,  and  enabling  him  to  assist, 
with  a  trembling  hand,  in  a  more  thorough  dressing  of 
Edward's  wounds. 

Breakfast  having  been  despatched,  and  the  operation  of 
carefully  dressing  the  wound  finished,  Edward  retired  to  one 
of  the  couches ;  the  curtains  were  drawn  over  the  opening  to 
the  recess,  and  the  Moorish  captain  went  on  deck  to  su 
perintend  the  alterations  in  the  sails,  rendered  necessary 
by  the  increasing  force  and  more  northerly  direction  of  the 
wind. 

All  day  the  swift  galley  flew  before  the  stiff  favoring 
breeze,  until,  just  at  sunset,  the  look-outs  caught  sight  of  the 
famous  "  Sma  Hassan,"  a  lofty  tower  that,  peering  far  above 
the  battlements  of  Rabat,  serves  as  a  landmark  to  vessels 
approaching  the  entrance  to  the  river  dividing  that  town 
from  Salee.  It  was  too  late,  even  had  the  tide  served,  to 
think  of  crossing  the  bar,  at  the  mouth  of  the  river,  and 
the  crew  of  the  galley  were  compelled  to  heave  to  about  mid 
night,  over  a  small  insulated  sand-bank,  and  to  cast  over  a 


62  THEBERBER. 

grapenel  to  keep  themselves  from  drifting  into  the  line  of 
breakers. 

Having  secured  his  vessel,  and  prepared  every  thing  for 
sweeping  her  into  the  harbor,  at  early  dawn,  the  Moorish 
captain  retired  to  his  cabin.  A  long  consultation  ensued 
between  the  brothers,  as  to  the  course  that  should  be  adopt 
ed  to  save  Edward  from  being  claimed  by  any  of  the  seve 
ral  owners  of  the  galley,  as  a  slave. 

"I  could  save  you,"  said  Hassan,  by  an  acknowledge 
ment  of  our  relationship,  and  by  a  resolute  exertion  of  my 
influence  and  power,  but  I  could  hardly  save  you  from  the 
annoyances  of  curiosity  and  bigotry.  Besides,  I  should  pre 
fer  not  to  risk  my  influence  just  now — we  may  need  it  all 
for  your  ultimate  escape." 

It  was  decided,  therefore,  that  Edward  should  keep  close 
in  the  cabin  until  night,  and  then  landing,  set  out  at  once 
for  the  royal  city  of  Mequinez,  about  sixty  miles  from 
Salee. 

"  Selim  shall  accompany  you  as  servant  and  interpreter. 
He  will  do  all  the  talking — if  spoken  to,  you  must  affect  to  be 
dumb.  You  will  proceed  directly  to  the  house  of  Abdallah 
ibn  Asken,  a  merchant,  to  whom  I  will  give  you  a  letter. 
He  is  an  acquaintance  of  my  boyhood ;  I  have  not  seen  him 
since  I  have  become  a  man,  but  I  have  been  in  correspon 
dence  with  him,  and  have  more  than  once  been  of  service  to 
him  in  some  delicate  negociations  with  Christians,  wherein  he 
dare  not  trust  his  countrymen  or  the  Jews.  I  know  that  I 
can  rely  upon  his  disposition  to  serve  me.  He  will  receive 


AT  A  LEOF     MOROCCO.  63 

you,  and  in  a  few  days  I  will  come  up  to  Mequinez  and  make 
further  arrangements  for  your  safety." 

Agreeablv  to  this  plan,  the  galley  at  daylight  was  swept 
in  through  the  breakers  on  the  bar,  by  the  full  force  of  forty 
oars,  and,  carried  up  the  stream,  where  it  was  beached,  as  if  by 
accident,  some  distance  beyond  the  line  of  the  water-gate.  The 
prisoners,  among  whom  were  Don  Diego  and  his  companions, 
were  taken  in  custody  by  the  officers  of  the  chief  kaid  of  the 
slaves,  hurried  ashore  amid  the  jeers  and  revilings  of  the  mob, 
and  thrust  into  the  large  vaults  or  casemates  constructed  in  the 
thickness  of  the  city  walls.  The  cargo  was  landed,  the  gal 
ley  slaves  sent  on  shore,  and  the  galley,  high  and  dry  at 
low  water,  remained,  almost  deserted  by  her  crew,  on  the 
sand. 

All  was  quiet  and  the  night  well-advanced  when  Edward 
drew  himself  out  from  his  hiding-place,  beneath  one  of  the 
couches,  and,  assisted  by  his  brother,  lowered  himself  with 
out  difficulty  from  one  of  the  stern-ports  to  the  ground.  Se- 
lim  was  in  waiting  at  a  little  distance;  and  in  a  few  mo 
ments  they  were  joined  by  the  rats. 

Once  clear  of  the  galley,  there  was  no  immediate  danger 
to  apprehend,  and  the  party  moved  rapidly  along  the  water- 
wall,  until  they  reached  the  entrance  to  the  dry  ditch  defend 
ing  the  town,  on  the  land  side.  Passing  along  this  for  some 
distance,  they  scrambled  up  the  covered  way,  and  gaining 
the  crest  of  the  glacis,  made  their  way  through  thickets  of 
cactus,  and  then  over  a  large  flat  table  of  rock,  until  they 
stood  beneath  the  arches  of  an  old  Roman  aqueduct,  about 


64  THE     BERBER. 

a  mile  from  Salee,  and  along  which  ran  the  road  to  Me- 

quinez. 

At  a  little  distance  were  picketed  two  mules.  The  rais 
assisted  his  brother  to  mount.  "Remember,"  he  said,  kiss 
ing  his  hand,  "  keep  silence,  and  you  are  safe.  Go,  you  are 
in  the  hand  of  God." 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  65 


CHAPTER    VI. 


IT  was  morning  at  Mequinez.  The  sun  was  just  peering 
above  the  snow-covered  peaks  of  the  Djebel  Tedla,  and  slop 
ing  across  the  intervening  valleys,  his  beams  fell,  like  a 
shower  of  gold,  upon  the  minarets  of  the  mosques  and  the 
domes  and  battlements  of  the  royal  palace. 

This  latter  building,  or  rather  assemblage  of  buildings, 
was  situated  at  the  southern  side  of  the  city,  and  consisted 
of  an  immense  number  of  rectangular  edifices  of  one  story, 
surrounding  courts  and  gardens,  mingled  with  square  cobaks 
or  store-houses  for  arms  and  munitions  of  war.  The  whole 
of  the  vast  area  was  environed  by '  a  solid  wall  more  than 
twenty  feet  high,  and  four  miles  in  circumference.  In  the  cen 
tre  stood  El  hareem — or  "  the  forbidden" — an  oblong  building, 
enclosing  a  sunken  garden,  half  a  mile  in  length,  and  of  a 
proportionate  width.  The  walls  were,  as  in  the  other  edifices, 
of  tapia,  or  mortar  moulded  in  wooden  cases.  No  windows 
varied  the  plane  surface  of  the  outside,  the  light  being  ad 
mitted  to  the  long,  narrow,  lofty  rooms,  only  through  the 
doors  opening  upon  the  corridors  and  courts  surrounding  the 
gardens.  An  elevated  wooden  bridge,  covered  with  lattice 
work,  supported  on  arches  and  resting  upon  slender  wood- 


60  THEBERBER. 

en  columns,  divided  the  principal  garden,  and  formed  a 
means  of  communication  between  the  opposite  sides  of  the 
hareem.  In  this  latticed  covered-way  it  was  the  custom  for 
the  female  inmates  of  the  hareem  to  pass  much  of  their  time, 
and  especially  to  assemble  when  the  emperor  gave  audience 
in  the  garden  below. 

Around  the  hareem  and  communicating  with  it,  by  count 
less  intricate  passages  and  courts,  was,  as  we  have  said,  an 
immense  number  of  buildings.  An  accurate  description,  how 
ever,  of  the  whole,  is  by  no  means  necessary  to  our  purpose ; 
suffice  it  to  say  that  the  ruins  still  existing  are  sufficient  to 
verify  the  assertions  of  several  Christian  writers,  who  saw  it 
in  the  days  of  Muley  Ismael,  that  it  was  one  of  the  most 
magnificent  palaces  in  the  world — magnificent,  not  from  its 
external  architecture,  which  was  nothing  but  one  unvarying 
system  of  rectangular,  whitewashed  uniformity,  or  from  the 
beauty  of  its  internal  finish — Moorish  taste  and  skill  having 
sadly  degenerated  since  the  days  when  men  traced  the  beautiful 
arabesques  of  the  Alhambra — but  magnificent  from  its  extent 
— from  the  magnitude  and  number  of  its  tesselated  rooms,  its 
paved  courts,  its  gardens,  and  its  fountains. 

It  was  morning  at  Mequinez.  In  a  large  court  communi 
cating  with  the  garden  of  the  hareem  were  assembled  all  the 
dignitaries  of  the  court.  A  body  of  black  troops  lined  each 
side  of  the  square.  Four  stalwart  negroes  lounged  at  a  little 
distance  from  the  archway  by  which  the  soltan  was  expected 
to  enter.  These  were  the  executioners,  the  invariable  atten 
dants  at  a  "  meshourah  "  or  royal  audience,  who  at  a  look  from 
their  master,  could  seize  the  unfortunate  subject  of  the 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  67 

monarch's  wrath,  and  tossing  him  into  the  air,  let  him  fall  so 
as  to  break  any  prescribed  number  of  bones,  or  to  kill  him 
outright. 

In  front  of  the  arch  were  gathered  the  officers  of  the 
court,  the  chief  dignitaries  of  the  city,  mingled  with  kaids 
and  lieutenant-kaids  from  Morocco  and  Fez,  and  bashaws 
from  the  provinces  of  Soos  and  Tefilet.  At  a  little  distance 
a  group  of  four  or  five  Jews  in  black  skull-cap  and  bornoose, 
cowered  in  deprecating  attitude  beneath  the  fierce  looks  of  the 
negro  guard. 

A  striking  contrast  was  that  between  the  insolent  air  of 
these  black  barbarians  from  the  further  side  of  the  Sahara, 
and  the  subdued  voices  and  anxious  looks  of  the  Maroquien 
courtiers. 

"  May  God  prolong  the  life  of  the  soltan,"  whispered  a 
bashaw  to  the  kaid  of  the  gate.  "  Hast  thou  heard  in  what 
mood  it  has  pleased  his  majesty  to  rise  this  morning  ?  " 

"May  the  soltan's  life  be  prolonged,"  replied  the  kaid. 
"  A  eunuch  just  whispered  me  that  it  had  pleased  our  Lord  the 
Shereef  to  rise  with  his  sword  in  his  teeth." 

And  the  word  passed  through  the  groups  of  anxious  of 
ficials  that  something  had  gone  wrong  with  his  majesty  during 
the  night,  and  that  probably  more  than  one  head  would  roll 
from  its  shoulders  in  token  of  the  soltan's  displeasure. 

The  gates  were  thrown  open,  and  the  soltan  was  seen  on 
horseback  in  the  middle  of  a  small  court,  beneath  an  umbrella 
of  red  silk  which  was  supported  on  a  long  pole  by  a  stalwart 
negro.  The  natural  ugliness  of  this  umbrella-bearer  was 
heightened  by  innumerable  scars,  the  marks  of  the  cimeter 


68  THE     BERBER. 

with  which  his  services  had  been  frequently  rewarded  when 
his  master  could  find  no  one  else  upon  whom  to  vent  his  wrath. 
Two  or  three  negroes,  with  half  a  dozen  renegade  Christian 
boys,  were  in  attendance,  but  preserving  an  unusually  respect 
ful  distance. 

Muley  Ismael,  the  sixth  monarch  of  the  dynasty  founded 
upon  the  subversion  of  the  Oataze  by  the  Shereefs  of  Tefilet, 
a  family  so  named  because  claiming  descent  from  the  Prophet, 
was  at  this  time  about  seventy  years  of  age.  Forty  years 
of  his  life  he  had  passed  upon  a  throne,  which,  by  his  talents 
and  energy,  he  had  consolidated  out  of  the  petty  kingdoms 
of  Sous,  Morocco,  Fez,  and  Tefilet.  Of  a  middle  size — his 
frame,  owing  to  his  extreme  temperance,  was  still  vigorous 
and  active.  He  could  mount  his  horse  by  vaulting,  without 
assistance,  and  could  wield  his  cimeter,  if  not  on  the  field 
of  battle  against  his  enemies,  at  least  in  his  own  court,  with 
a  degree  of  skill  and  force  that  was  perfectly  satisfactory  to 
his  courtiers  and  friends.  His  complexion  was  very  dark, 
his  mother  having  been  a  woman  from  Soudan,  but  his  fea 
tures  inclined  more  to  the  Moorish  than  the  negro  style  of 
face.  His  eyes,  black  and  piercing,  sparkled  with  intelligence, 
or  gleamed  with  the  most  ferocious  malice.  His  mouth  was 
wide,  and  generally  distorted  by  a  sardonic  grin,  while  his  tooth 
less  gums  added  to  its  disagreeable  expression,  which  was 
somewhat  relieved,  however,  by  a  snow-white  beard.  His 
dress  was  a  plain  white  halck,  beneath  which  was  a  green 
caftan,  and  a  pair  of  short  wide  trousers  of  woollen.  Around 
his  waist  he  wore  a  silken  sash,  and  a  Morocco  belt  studded 
with  jewels,  from  which  depended  the  scabbard  of  a  diamond 


ATALEOFMOROCCO.  69 

hilted  cimeter.  To  the  terror  of  the  courtiers  it  was  noticed 
that  the  color  of  this  sash  was  yellow,  a  sure  indication  that 
the  soltan  was  in  no  pleasant  humor.  Yellow  slippers  covered 
his  feet,  and  a  voluminous  turban  of  fine  linen  surrounded 
a  high  peaked  fez. 

The  instant  the  gates  were  thrown  open,  the  soltan,  in 
stead  of  moving  forward  with  majestic  tranquility  at  a  pace 
that  would  have  allowed  his  umbrella-bearer  to  keep  up  with 
him,  struck  his  spurs  into  his  horse,  and  dashed  through  the 
archway  into  the  court  of  audience  at  full  speed.  As  he 
passed  the  gates  his  horse  swerved  a  little,  bringing  his  ma 
jesty's  foot  slightly  in  contact  with  the  dress  of  one  of  the 
gatekeepers.  The  soltan  threw  himself  back  in  the  saddle, 
the  powerful  Moorish  bit  jerking  the  horse  to  his  haunches, 
and  holding  for  an  instant  his  fore  feet  suspended  in  the  air. 
Like  a  gleam  of  light  the  imperial  cimeter  descended  upon  the 
head  of  the  unlucky  porter  and  felled  him  to  the  earth.  The 
next  instant  the  snorting  barb  leaped  teneath  the  touch  of 
the  tremendous  Moorish  rowels  right  amid  the  trembling 
group  assembled  in  the  court.  And  now  was  presented  one  of 
those  singular  scenes  which,  when  occuring  in  authentic  history, 
we  read  with  sentiments  of  the  most  profound  incredulity,  for 
getting  that  the  possessor  of  perfectly  despotic  power  is  almost 
necessarily  a  madman. 

"  Long  life  and  health  to  Sidi !  May  God  preserve  Sidi ! " 
shouted  with  one  accord  the  courtiers,  at  the  same  time  pros 
trating  themselves  to  the  ground,  and  crouching  and  cringing 
around  the  soltan,  endeavoring  to  touch  his  feet  or  to  kiss  his 
garments  or  the  trappings  of  his  horse.  The  soltan,  however, 


70  THEBERBER. 

kept  his  horse  in  motion  and  his  cimeter  whirling,  and  it  was 
with  no  small  expenditure  of  agility  that  his  courtiers  contriv 
ed  to  pay  their  customary  salutations,  and  yet  to  preserve  their 
bodies  from  the  horses  hoofs  or  their  necks  from  the  steel. 
As  it  was,  several  turbans  were  already  cut  through,  and  a 
dozen  haicks  were  stained  with  blood,  wrhen  suddenly  the 
sol  tan  checked  his  horse,  and  sheathing  his  cimeter  with  a 
growl  of  rage,  he  passed  his  hands  into  the  folds  of  his  sash 
and  drew  out  a  paper. 

"  Traitors,"  he  shouted,  glaring  round  upon  his  panting 
and  terrified  court.  "Dogs!  whose  work  is  this]  Who 
of  you  has  dared  to  sell  himself  to  the  Berber1?"  and  the  old 
monarch  shook  the  paper  with  convulsive  energy. 

"  Read  this,"  he  exclaimed  to  an  officer  who  held  the  office 
of  chief  kaid  of  the  gate. 

The  kaid  advanced,  took  the  paper,  and  after  kissing 
the  hem  of  the  imperial  haick,  he  read  in  a  loud  voice  as 
follows : — 

"To  the  powerful  Muley  Ismael,  emperor  of  Morocco, 
Soos,  and  Tefilet,  whom  God  preserve  in  the  paths  of  justice 
and  mercy.  Know  that  thy  demand  for  more  tribute  than  the 
free  Amazerg  of  the  hills  has  of  his  own  accord  consented  to 
pay  is  unjust.  Know  also  that  thy  design  to  ravage  the 
country  of  the  Ait  Amoor  is  known  to  me.  Be  wrarned  in 
time  and  let  there  be  peace  between  us.  I  fear  you  not,  and 
wish  you  well,  in  token  whereof  I  pin  this  paper  with  my 
dagger  to  your  pillow  and  not  to  your  heart. 

"  CASEIN  EL  SUBAH." 

"  What  think  you,"  demanded  the  soltan,  when  the  kaid 


A      TALE     OF    MOROCCO.  71 

had  finished  ;  "  whence  conies  this  ?  Who  pinned  that  paper  to 
my  pillow  V 

"  May  God  for  ever  preserve  Sidi,  but  I  know  not,"  re 
plied  the  trembling  kaid. 

"  Think  you  it  was  the  Berber  chieftan  himself?" 

"  God  knows,"  replied  the  kaid,  falling  upon  his  knees. 

"  God  knows,  but  you  do  not,"  growled  the  soltau ;  "  and 
yet  you  are  kaid  of  the  gates." 

Muley  Ismael  glared  around  upon  his  court  with  the  look 
of  a  tiger,  selecting  a  victim,  and  then  raising  his  finger  the 
four  negroes  darted  upon  the  prostrate  and  grovelling  form 
of  the  unfortunate  officer. 

"  God  is  great !  and  there  is  no  God  but  God !  may  he 
lengthen  the  life  of  Sidi,"  exclaimed  the  kaid ;  but  with  the 
words  in  his  mouth,  his  body  was  whirled  aloft  on  the  ex 
tended  arms  of  the  gigantic  negroes,  and  then  dashed  head 
first  with  mortal  force  upon  the  marble  pavement. 

The  soltau  stared  for  a  moment  with  a  grin  of  maniacal 
rage  distorting  his  toothless  mouth,  upon  the  lifeless  body 
of  the  kaid,  while  the  courtiers  began  to  elevate  their  voices  in 
expressions  of  admiration  of  his  justice  and  goodness,  and 
in  wishes  for  his  long  life  and  prosperity.  One  Moor,  how 
ever,  of  a  dignified  mien,  and  of  a  complexion  that  would 
have  compared  for  clearness  and  whiteness  with  that  of  the  inha 
bitants  of  northern  Europe,  stood  a  little  apart  in  silence.  He 
either  could  not,  or  would  not,  join  in  the  sycophantic  plau 
dits  that  were  beginning  to  arise  from  all  quarters  of  the  court. 

As  the  eyes  of  the  monarch  turned  from  the  body  of  the 
kaid,  they  fell  upon  the  silent  figure  of  the  Moor. 


72  THEBERBER. 

"  Hah !"  exclaimed  the  soltan,  "  Abdallah  ibn  Asken ! 
what  thirikest  thou  of  the  justice  of  the  shereef  1" 

To  approve  or  disapprove,  in  answer  to  such  a  question, 
it  was  well  known  to  be  attended  with  equal  danger,  and  for 
a  moment  Abdallah  stood  without  making  any  reply. 

With  a  deep-drawn  yell  of  concentrated  passion,  Muley 
Ismael  spurred  towards  him.  "  Dog !  son  of  a  Christian  !— 
you,  a  descendant  of  the  Ommeyah  of  Andalusia  !"  he  shouted, 
and,  raising  his  sword,  let  it  fall  with  full  force  upon  the 
head  of  the  Moor,  who,  as  the  blade  descended,  received  it 
without  moving  from  his  tracks.  Luckily  the  thick  turban 
afforded  a  partial  defence;  but  still  the  keen  steel  cleft  the 
scalp,  and,  glancing,  inflicted  a  deep  wound  in  the  shoulder. 
The  sword  itself,  by  the  force  of  the  blow,  was  wrenched 
from  the  soltan's  hand,  and  flew  out  some  distance  on  the 
pavement. 

Quietly  Abdallah  turned,  took  a  few  steps,  picked  up  the 
sword,  and  deliberately  wiped  the  bloody  blade  upon  his 
haik.  He  then  advanced  to  the  emperor,  who  sat  motionless 
upon  his  horse,  and  presenting  the  hilt  bowed  his  head. 

"  God  is  God,"  exclaimed  Abdallah,  "  and  I  submit  to 
my  fate,  at  his  hands,  and  at  the  hands  of  the  shereef."* 

Muley  Ismael,  although  one  of  the  most  suspicious,  irri 
table  and  cruel  tyrants  that  ever  filled  a  throne,  had  his  mo 
ments  of  generosity.  From  the  extreme  of  passion  it  was 
no  uncommon  thing  for  him  to  pass  to  the  extreme  of  kind 
ness  and  condescension. 

*  This  is  no  invention.     The  incident  actually  occurred,  and  the  whole 
scene,  as  described,  is  much  within  the  bounds  of  historic  truth. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  73 

Receiving  the  cimeter  he  returned  it  to  its  sheath,  and  then, 
unbuckling  the  belt,  handed  it  back  to  Abdallah. 

"  Receive  this,"  said  the  soltan ;  "  oh,  worthy  descendant 
of  the  royal  Ommeyah ;  may  God  restore  their  dynasty  to 
the  throne  of  Cordova ; — receive  it  as  a  token  of  our  satis 
faction  that  there  is  at  least  one  brave  and  honest  man  in 
our  court." 

Abdallah  bowed  himself  to  the  stirrup  of  the  soltan,  and 
kissed  his  foot.  Muley  Ismael  placed  his  hand  upon  the 
Moor's  head,  and  raising  it,  exclaimed  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Long 
life  to  Abdallah  ibn  Asken,  Chief  Raid  of  the  gates !" 

The  tongues  of  the  courtiers  were  loosened.  The  smiles 
of  the  soltan  having  returned,  they  felt  secure  of  their  heads 
for  another  day.  Shouts  of  delight  at  the  goodness  and  great 
ness  of  God,  and  at  the  wisdom,  and  mercy,  and  justice  of 
the  shereef,  rose  upon  the  air,  and  circled  the  arched  corri 
dors  of  the  hareem,  and  penetrated  even  to  a  distant  square, 
where  were  lying  the  lifeless  bodies  of  four  women,  who, 
without  the  slightest  ground  for  suspicion,  had  been  ordered 
to  execution  upon  the  first  discovery  of  the  Berber's  note. 

The  emperor  made  a  gesture  for  silence — dismounting,  he 
took  a  seat  upon  a  projecting  angle  of  the  archway,  while  his 
principal  officers  squatted  upon  the  ground  around  him.  The 
mind  of  the  soltan  was  too  busy  with  the  affair  of  the  Berber 
chieftain,  to  permit  his  attention  to  the  usual  business  of  the 
day ;  and  he  eagerly  demanded  of  his  ministers  their  advice 
as  to  the  best  means  of  reaching  a  rebellious  subject  who  was 
not  content  with  defying  the  imperial  power  from  his  stronghold 
in  the  hills,  but  who,  as  was  evident  from  the  note  and  the 

4 


74  THE     BERBER. 

dagger,  maintained  relations  with  members  of  the  court,  and 
perhaps  even  mingled  with  the  inmates  of  the  palace. 

"  Who  has  seen  this  chieftain  of  the  Beni  Mozarg  T  de 
manded  Muley  Ishmael. 

Several  officers  asserted  their  knowledge  of  the  Berber's 
person. 

"  He  is  a  tall  man,  of  about  forty  years  of  age,"  said  the 
Bashaw  of  Fez. 

"  No ;  he  is  a  little,  old  man  of  seventy,"  interrupted  the 
Bashaw  of  Morocco,  who  was  a  Shelloch,  or  in  other  words,  a 
Berber  of  the  tribes  inhabiting  the  Southern  Atlas. 

"  He  is  neither,"  interposed  Raid  Hammed  Burosch,  who 
was  a  Reefien  and  descended  from  the  Berbers  of  the  northern 
coast.  "  He  is  a  very  young  man,  almost  black,  his  mother 
being  from  Soudan." 

"  No !"  exclaimed  a  burly  negro,  the  kaid  of  the  gardens, 
"  he  is  white  as  the  whitest  town  Moor — white  as  a  Chris 
tian.  I  saw  him  once  as  I  was  coming  into  the  gate  of  the  city  ; 
he  was  riding  out  with  a  number  of  Berbers  of  the  Ait  Amore 
and  some  Arabs  of  the  plains.  No  ;  he  is  white,  with  fair 
hair  :  the  Beni  Mozarg  are  the  whitest  of  the  tribes  ;  you  can 
tell  them  in  a  moment  from  all  other  Berbers  who  throng  the 
socco  on  market  days." 

"  'Tis  strange,"  exclaimed  the  soltan,  "  this  fellow  and  his 
tribe  live  less  than  half  a  day's  ride  from  our  gates,  and  his 
name  for  the  last  three  years  has  been  extending  through  the 
whole  length  of  the  land,  and  yet  it  seems  impossible  to 
ascertain  whether  he  is  young  or  old,  tall  or  short,  black  or 
white !" 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  75 

"  But "  he  continued,  "  I  will  visit  his  stronghold  myself. 
Let  everything  be  prepared  for  an  excursion  in  the  mountains. 
See  that  ten  thousand  of  my  black  troops  are  in  readiness, 
and  collect  five  thousand  horsemen  from  Tetuan,  and  as  many 
more  from  Tedla.  They  are  all  Berbers,  and  it  will  be 
good  policy  to  use  them  up  against  their  kindred  of  the  Ait 
Arnore," 

"  But,"  interposed  the  Bashaw,  Hammed  ibn  Bomba,  who 
held  a  post  equivalent  to  minister  of  war,  and  to  whom  the 
king's  order  was  addressed,  "  It  is  useless  to  march  into  the 
hills  without  artillery,  and  the  kaid  of  artillery,  Renegado 
Hassan  Jones,  lies  " — at  the  point  of  death — the  Bashaw  would 
have  said,  but  death  being  a  word  that  must  never  be  men 
tioned  in  the  presence  of  the  soltan,  he  paraphrased  it  by — 
"  lies  awaiting  the  fulfilment  of  his  destiny." 

"And  is  there  no  Christian  slave  or  renegado  who  can 
supply  his  place  1" 

"  Not  one,"  replied  the  Bashaw.  "  Please  God  that 
some  of  the  corsairs  may  bring  in  a  competent  Giristian 
soon." 

"Publish  an  order,"  exclaimed  the  soltan,  "that  all  the 
slaves  brought  into  Salee,  without  exception,  be  sent  up  to 
Mequinez,  and  order  all  the  cruisers  now  in  port  to  get  to 
sea  immediately.  Let  them  capture  a  Christian  who  under 
stands  the  management  of  big  guns  at  once.  See  that  I  am 
obeyed.  On  your  head  be  it." 

Eising,  the  soltan  broke  up  the  council,  and,  with  a  wave 
of  his  hand,  dismissed  without  a  word  the  crowd  of  dignitaries 
from  different  districts  of  the  empire,  some  of  whom  had  been 


76  THEBERBER. 

waiting  for  weeks  for  an  opportunity  to  inquire  the  reasons  for 
which  they  had  been  commanded  to  present  themselves  at  court. 

The  soltan  mounted  his  horse,  and  accompanied  by  his 
negroes  and  a  few  of  his  most  intimate  courtiers,  he  set  out 
to  view  the  progress  of  the  building  that  was  constantly  going 
on  under  his  direction. 

In  different  parts  of  the  palace  ten  thousand  Christian 
captives  of  all  nations,  but  mainly  Spaniards.  Italians,  and 
French,  were  busily  engaged  in  preparing  mortar,  sawing 
timber,  clearing  away  rubbish,  and  carrying  loads  of  building 
material  on  their  backs,  while  as  many  Moors  were  super 
intending  and  directing  their  labor,  or  executing  the  finer 
architectural  detail  of  the  work.  Many  were  engaged  in  tear 
ing  down  buildings  that  had  been  but  recently  erected ;  the 
organ  of  constructiveness,  which  must  have  been  large  in  the 
head  of  this  singular  old  tyrant,  being  about  equally  balanced 
by  a  passion  for  destroying.  It  was  a  common  saying  among 
the  Moors  of  the  day,  "  that  were  all  the  houses  standing  that 
he  had  built  and  torn  down  there  would  have  been  enough 
to  make  a  street  from  Mequinez  to  Fez." 

We  must  do  him  the  justice,  however,  to  relate  that  he 
himself  assigned  what  he  doubtless  considered  a  very  good 
and  sufficient  reason  for  his  propensity  to  destroy  and  rebuild. 
His  architectural  expenditures  cost  him  nothing — they  all 
came  in  the  shape  of  forced  contributions  in  kind  from  his 
subjects.  One  bashaw  pillaged  his  district  of  lime  and  tim 
ber,  another  of  grain  and  cattle  for  the  support  of  the  work 
men,  and  so  on,  not  a  province  escaping  the  most  harassing 
exactions. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  77 

"  And  I  do  this,"  said  the  politic  tyrant  to  an  English 
ambassador,  "  because  my  people  are  like  a  bag  full  of 
rats,  unless  I  keep  shaking  the  bag  they  will  gnaw  their 
way  out." 


78  THEBERBER. 


CHAPTER    VII. 


ABDALLAH  IBN  ASKEN  was  a  native  of  Fez.  Descended 
from  a  noble  family  who  had  fled  from  Spain  some  time  after 
the  victorious  banners  of  Ferdinand  had  been  planted  upon 
the  walls  of  Grenada,  the  mind  of  Abdallah  had  been  early 
imbued  with  the  prejudices  and  feelings  that  even  still  are  to 
be  found,  though  in  a  less  degree,  among  those  Moors  who  can 
trace  their  descent  back  to  the  polished  courtiers  of  the 
Ommeyah  and  the  Abencerrages. 

Upon  finishing  his  studies  under  the  direction  of  a  cele 
brated  talbe,  or  doctor  of  theology,  Hadji  Ben  Nasser,  he 
devoted  three  or  four  years  to  reading  in  the  great  library  at 
Fez.  Here  he  found  a  number  of  works  by  Arabic  writers, 
on  theology,  rhetoric,  philosophy,  astronomy,  and  geography, 
besides  many  translations  from  ancient  Greek  and  Latin  au 
thors — some  of  whose  productions,  in  their  original  languages, 
are  for  ever  lost  to  the  civilized  world,  but  may  yet  be 
recovered  in  their  Arabic  versions  from  the  manuscript  trea 
sures  of  the  Moorish  mosques. 

It  was,  however,  the  history  of  the  Mohammedan  dominion 
in  Spain,  that  chiefly  excited  Abdallah's  interest.  More  than  all, 
he  loved  to  pore  over  the  stories  and  ballads  of  the  days  of  the 


ATALEOFMOROCCO.  79 

Ommeyah  from  which  royal  family  he  claimed  a  direct  descent. 
As  may  be  supposed,  with  a  mind  thus  raised  above  the  de 
graded  African  civilization  by  which  he  was  surrounded,  and  to 
some  extent  emancipated  from  the  religious  prejudices  that  the 
bigoted  Ben  Nassir  and  his  Christian-hating  compeers  would 
have  gladly  infused,  he  willingly  obeyed  an  order  to  attach 
himself  to  an  embassy  which,  in  the  first  years  of  Muley 
Ism  a  el's  reign,  was  sent  to  the  court  of  Spain.  A  few  years 
afterward  a  second  opportunity  was  afforded  him  to  travel 
into  Christian,  lands,  upon  the  occasion  of  the  embassy  of 
Bashaw  Perez  to  the  court  of  England. 

Upon  returning  to  Morocco,  Abdallah,  instead  of  taking 
to  the  law,  for  which  he  had  been  educated,  or  to  the  pre 
carious  and  dangerous  business  of  a  courtier,  turned  his  atten 
tion  to  mercantile  affairs,  in  the  course  of  which  he  was  com 
pelled  to  make  several  visits  to  Timbuctoo  and  Jennie  on 
the  one  hand,  and  the  ports  of  Leghorn  and  Marseilles  on 
the  other. 

The  result  of  his  travels  was  a  freedom  from  prejudice, 
great  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  the  acquisition  of  numerous 
European  tastes,  habits,  and  notions.  Externally,  to  his  own 
countrymen,  he  was  a  grave  devout  Mussulman,  but  at  heart 
he  was  an  unbeliever  in  the  Prophet,  and  a  scoffer  at  the 
barbarous  customs  and  ignorant  prejudices  of  his  countrymen. 
Another  result  of  his  travels  was  the  acquisition  of  a  fortune, 
and  with  it  the  jealous  watchfulness  of  the  soltan,  who  seldom 
suffered  any  of  his  subjects,  against  whom  there  was  a  suspi 
cion  of  wealth,  to  escape  the  ordeal  of  the  wooden  djellabeah,  a 
mode  of  squeezing  money  from  reluctant  capitalists  then,  as  it 


80  THE    BERBER. 

has  been  ever  since,  very  much  in  vogue  with  the  Maroquien 
Court.  The  wooden  djellabeah  consists  simply  of  two  wide 
planks  connected  by  large  screws.  Between  these  planks  the 
suspected  wretch  is  placed,  and  the  screws  are  turned  until 
the  confession  of  his  secreted  hoards  is  forced  from  his  lips.* 

Although  concealing  all  evidences  of  his  gains,  Abdallah 
had  incurred  suspicion,  and  his  mercantile  affairs  were  sud 
denly  brought  to  a  close  by  an  order  to  repair  to  Mequinez. 
Here  he  was  assigned  a  house  just  without  the  palace,  at  an 
exorbitant  rent,  by  the  soltan  himself,  but  no  further  efforts 
at  extortion  were  made  by  the  capricious  tyrant,  and  he  was 
allowed  to  settle  down  in  undisturbed  repose  in  his  new  home. 
Policy,  however,  dictated  that  he  should  frequently  show  him 
self  at  Muley  Ismael's  morning  receptions,  and  it  was  at  one 
of  these,  as  we  have  just  seen,  that  he  attracted  the  soltan's 
attention,  and  found  himself  suddenly  promoted  to  the  respon 
sible  office  of  kaid  of  the  gates. 

The  blood  flowing  from  the  deep  cuts  made  by  the  im 
perial  hand  crimsoned  the  white  garments  of  the  new  kaid. 
He  grew  faint,  and,  as  the  soltan  rode  off,  he  was  compelled 
to  accept  the  support  of  his  inferior  officials  and  assistants,  who 
flocked  around  him  with  their  congratulations  upon  the  im 
perial  favor. 

*  The  most  horrible  tortures  are  resorted  to  for  forcing  confession  of 
hidden  wealth.  The  victim  is  put  into  a  slow  oven,  or  kept  standing  for 
weeks  in  a  wooden  dress.  Splinters  are  forced  between  the  flesh  and  the 
nail  of  the  fingers.  Two  fierce  cats  are  put  alive  into  his  wide  trousers  ; 
and  the  breasts  of  his  women  are  pinched  by  pincers.  Young  children 
have  sometimes  been  squeezed  to  death  in  the  arms  of  a  powerful  man 
before  the  eyes  of  their  parents. — Hay's  Western  Barbary. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  81 

A  dozen  turbans  were  at  his  service  for  bandages,  and 
a  dozen  hands  ready  to  apply  them.  Aided  by  the  kaid  of 
fountains  and  the  kaid  of  the  stables,  and  followed  by  a  crowd 
of  courtiers  and  officers,  the  new  kaid  of  the  gates  passed 
through  the  gardens  and  courts  until  he  reached  the  great  city- 
gate  of  the  palace,  close  by  which  stood  his  own  house.  Here  he 
dismissed  his  attendants,  who  would  gladly  have  availed  them 
selves  of  the  opportunity  to  enter  and  examine  the  interior 
of  a  dwelling  which  rumor  had  already  begun  to  indicate  as 

0 

the  residence  of  an  earthly  houri — handsomer  by  far  than  the 
most  heavenly -minded  follower  of  the  Prophet  had  ever 
dreamed  of. 

Abdallah  drew  a  wooden  pass  key  from  his  girdle  and 
opened  the  door.  He  had  just  strength  to  close  it  behind  him 
and  totter  across  the  skejfa,  or  narrow  hall,  into  the  open  patio, 
or  court.  This  court  was  about  twenty  feet  long,  with  two 
narrow  rooms  on  either  hand,  and  at  the  side  opposite  the 
entrance  an  arched  passage  way  from  side  to  side,  dividing 
the  first  patio  from  a  larger  one  beyond. 

In  the  centre  of  the  court  sat  an  old  negress  busily  engaged 
in  heaping  up  a  pile  of  cooscoosoo,  the  national  dish  of 
Barbary,  and  one  for  which  no  Moor — and  for  the  matter  of 
that,  no  Christian  who  has  once  tried  it — ever  loses  a  relish. 
Wetting  her  hand  in  a  pitcher  of  water  placed  by  her  side,  she 
seized  a  handful  of  wheaten  flour,  and  carefully  rolling  it  up 
into  little  round  grams,  by  rubbing  it  in  an  earthern  bowl,  she 
tossed  it  into  a  seive  made  of  sheep  skin  pierced  with  holes. 
The  coarser  grains  were  by  this  means  separated  and  thrown 
back  into  the  bowl.  A  smaller  seive  separated  the  finer 


82  THEBERBER. 

grains,  leaving  the  medium  sizes,  smooth,  round,  and  uniform 
as  shot,  to  be  added  to  the  rapidly  growing  pile.  As  she 
worked,  she  amused  herself  by  singing  several  doleful  songs 
in  her  native  language,  occasionally  stopping  and  looking  up 
at  a  young  man  who  sat  in  the  arched  doorway — the  only  ap- 
perture  for  air  or  light — of  one  of  the  side  rooms,  and  who  seem 
ed  to  have  no  other  amusement  than  to  watch  her  operations. 

He  was  young,  about  twenty-four  or  five  years,  habited 
in  a  common  woollen  djellabeah,  with  a  turban  which,  encir 
cling  his  head  without  any  cap,  seemed  more  like  a  bandage 
for  a  wounded  scalp  than  like  the  graceful  head-gear  of  the 
Moor.  His  complexion  was  light,  although  not  lighter  than 
that  frequently  seen  in  the  Moorish  Countenance  when  not 
tinged  by  an  infusion  of  negro  blood,  or  by  constant  exposure 
to  the  sun  and  air.  It  is,  however,  unnecessary  for  us  to  go 
into  a  minute  description  of  his  person  or  dress. 

"  Yah !  yah !  I  wonder  what  made  him  dumb,"  muttered 
the  fat  Fatima  Laboo,  in  Arabic ;  "  he  looks  as  if  he  could 
talk — perhaps  he  talk  too  much,  and  soltan  cut  his  tongue 
out.  Yah  !  he's  good  looking — wonder  how  Xaripha  like  him 
when  he  came  in  last  night  1 — she  stood  long  time  at  the  lat 
tice  looking  down  here.  Yah !  yah !  I  hear  a  noise  up  there — 
guess  she's  there  now." 

At  this  moment  Abdallah  tottered  into  the  court — pale, 
trembling,  with  his  garments  crimsoned  with  blood.  The 
young  man  started  forward  to  support  him,  while  Fatima 
jumping  to  her  feet,  as  nimbly  as  her  obesity  would  permit, 
rushed  wildly  round  the  court,  shouting  to  Allah,  and  Obih, 
and  Xaripha,  for  help. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  83 

The  young  man,  with  ready  and  vigorous  grasp,  support 
ed  Abdallah  to  the  carpeted  door-step,  and  placed  him  upon 
the  cushions  from  which  he  himself  had  just  risen.  As  he 
looked  up  from  assisting  the  wounded  kaid,  his  eyes  were 
startled  by  a  vision  of  surpassing  loveliness.  A  young  girl, 
followed  by  several  female  slaves,  rushed  into  the  patio  from 
beneath  the  arches  of  the  gallery. 

"  Father !  father !"  she  cried,  throwing  her  arms  round 
Abdallah ;  "  what  is  this  ?  Blood  !  oh,  father,  they  have  mur 
dered  you !" 

"  Not  so,"replied  Abdallah ;  "  not  so  bad  as  that,  Xaripha. 
Be  not  frightened — 'tis  but  a  scratch,  a  mere  cut.  I  am  a 
little  faint  now ;  but  it  will  pass." 

Xaripha,  dropping  her  father's  hand,  without  a  word,  flew 
out  of  the  patio.  In  a  moment  she  was  back  again  with  a 
small  vial,  from  which  she  proceeded  to  pour  a  few  drops 
into  a  cup  of  water.  The  draught  restored  the  strength  of  the 
kaid ;  he  sat  up  and  affectionately  placed  his  hand  upon  the 
arm  of  Xaripha. 

"  'Tis  a  precious  recipe,  that  of  the  old  sage  of  Cordova,"  he 
said ;  "  and  truly,  child,  have  you  compounded  it.  I  knew  not 
that  your  medicine  was  so  efficacious." 

"  The  herbs  composing  it  are  powerful,"  replied  Xaripha, 
and  I  mixed  them  according  to  the  recipe  in  the  hand-writ 
ing  of  our  great  ancestor,  El  Hakem. 

"True,  child,  but  I  had  nearly  forgotten  that  we  had 
the  recipe.  'Twas  well  that  I  entrusted  it  to  your  care.  It 
has  quite  restored  my  strength.  We  will  now  examine  this 
scratch,  with  which  it  has  pleased  the  soltan  to  mark  my 
appointment  to  office." 


84  THE     BERBER. 

Xaripha  despatched  the  slaves  in  various  directions  for 
water,  bandages,  and  salves,  and  proceeded  at  once  with  her  own 
hands  to  disclose  the  gaping  wounds,  to  staunch  the  welling 
blood,  and  to  apply  the  medicated  dressings  with  a  degree  of 
skill  which,  in  that  day,  could  hardly  have  been  surpassed  by 
the  best  surgeons  of  Europe,  and  which  indicated  that  with  the 
blood  of  the  Ommeyah  had  been  transmitted  a  portion,  at 
least,  of  the  medical  science  of  those  days,  when  nourished  an 
Averrhoes  and  an  Abenzoar. 

So  absorbed  in  her  pious  duties  was  the  fair  Moorish  girl, 
that  she  heeded  not  the  presence  of  the  young  man,  who 
quietly  aided  her.  He,  on  the  other  hand,  uttered  no  word ; 
but  gazing  with  all  his  eyes  at  the  vision  of  beauty  which  had 
so  suddenly  burst  upon  him,  he  felt  each  barrier  to  his  heart 
give  way,  and  his  whole  soul  fill  with  a  rushing,  eddying, 
almost  oppressive  sense  of  female  loveliness.  The  glowing 
charms  of  the  unveiled  face,  the  bare  arms  and  shoulders,  the 
unslippered  feet,  and  the  suggested  graces — half  revealed, 
half  concealed  by  the  short  pliant  basquina,  and  the  thin  semi- 
transparent  chemisette — overpowered,  bewildered,  stupified 
him.  His  steady  gaze  of  intense  soul-absorbing  interest  and 
admiration  attracted  the  attention  of  Abdallah. 

"Xaripha,"  said  her  father,  speaking  in  Italian,  "you  are 
unveiled — you  forget  the  presence  of  this  young  man." 

"  How  could  I  think  of  anything,  father,  but  you,  when  I 
saw  you  from  the  lattice,  and  heard  the  shrieks  of  Fatimah? 
As  for  this  young  man,  I  like  his  appearance,  and  I  mind  not 
showing  myself  unveiled  before  him." 

"  You  may  not  mind  it,  for  I  have  not  trained  you  in  the 


ATALEOPMOROCCO.  85 

notions  of  our  people,  but  he  may  think  it  strange — besides,  I 
am  anxious  that  no  one  should  know  of  your  growing  beauty." 

"  But  this  poor  young  man  is  deaf  and  dumb,  and  he  looks 
not  like  one  who  would  betray  any  confidence,"  replied 
Xaripha. 

"  Dumb,  so  far  as  I  know ;  but  much  I  misdoubt  me 
if  he  cannot  hear.  He  certainly  understands  Spanish,  if  not 
Arabic.  He  has  a  very  familiar  look  to  me.  'Tis  strange, 
but  still  it  might  well  be — he  surely  looks  like  it " 

"  Like  what  1  dearest  father,"  demanded  Xaripha. 

"  Like  a  Christian." 

Xaripha  started,  and  threw  a  glance  of  increased  interest 
at  the  young  man. 

"  You  have  not  told  me  how  he  comes  here,  and  to  what 
purpose,"  said  Xaripha. 

"  I  know  nothing  of  him,"  replied  Abdallah,  "  except  that 
he  arrived  from  Salee  last  night,  accompanied  by  a  black, 
and  bearing  a  letter  from  my  good  friend  Hassan  Herach, 
whom  I  have  not  seen  since  he  was  a  boy,  but  with  whom  I 
have  ever  maintained  a  correspondence,  and  whom  may  God 
preserve  in  the  ways  of  health  and  safety.  His  note  entreated 
me  to  receive  this  young  man  into  my  house,  and  to  conceal 
him  from  some  imminent  danger,  which  he,  Hassan,  would  ex 
plain  to  me  when  he  should  arrive  in  Mequinez.  The  black 
informed  me  that  the  young  man  is  deaf  and  dumb,  and 
that  his  master  Hassan  values  his  life  more  than  he  does  his 
own." 

"This  Hassan  Herach  then  will  soon  be  here?"  said 
Xaripha. 


80  THE     BERBER. 

"  1  am  afraid  not,"  replied  her  father.  "  The  soltan  issued 
an  order  to-day  for  every  cruiser  to  put  to  sea  at  once,  and 
Hassan  will  be  compelled  to  obey." 

The  position  of  Edward,  during  this  conversation,  was 
peculiarly  embarrassing.  Perfectly  familiar  with  the  Italian, 
he  could  not  avoid  hearing  and  understanding  every  word  that 
passed  between  the  speakers ;  and  the  very  precautioi\they  had 
taken  to  prevent  his  comprehending  them  in  case  he  was  only 
shamming  deafness — that  of  speaking  in  Italian,  rather  than  in 
Arabic — was  the  very  means  of  betraying  their  thoughts. 
Several  times  was  he  prompted  to  speak,  and  avow  his 
Christian  character,  but  the  parting  injunctions  of  his  brother, 
and  the  warnings  of  Selim,  together  with  his  own  well-founded 
apprehensions  as  to  the  reception  such  an  avowal  would  meet 
with  in  the  house  of  a  Moor,  restrained  him. 

The  conversation  between  father  and  daughter  flowed  on — • 
reverting  into  the  Arabic  tongue,  until  a  few  indignant  excla 
mations  from  Xaripha  brought  an  expression  of  caution  from 
her  father. 

"  Hush !  hush !"  he  exclaimed.  "  Speak  Italian — our  slaves 
are  faithful,  but  Moorish  walls  understand  Arabic,  and  a  small 
word  will  weigh  against  a  man's  head." 

The  conversation  being  continued  in  Italian,  the  young 
Englishman  was  again  made  an  unwilling  listener.  Abdallah 
described  the  scene  at  the  audience,  and  bitterly  lamented  his 
unexpected  elevation  to  the  office  of  chief  kaid  of  the  gates. 

"  And  now,"  said  he,  "  my  every  motion  will  be  watched 
more  closely  than  before — much  I  fear  that  it  will,  for  a  long 
time,  prevent  the  execution  of  our  cherished  design  ;  and  yet, 
I  dare  not  refuse  it." 


A     TALE     OP     MOROCCO.  87 

"  Oh,  father !"  affectionately  exclaimed  Xaripha,  throwing 
her  arm  around  his  neck ;  "  give  up  your  fortune  and  let  us 
fly  !  Tis  only  the  money  that  keeps  us — without  that,  we 
can  escape  at  once,  and  surely  we  can  find  some  way  of  living 
in  that  noble  land  of  the  Englishman,  where  you  say  the 
soltan  cannot  wrong  the  meanest  man  in  property  or  life." 

As  Xaripha  spoke,  her  eye  flashed,  her  bosom  heaved,  and 
her  round  supple  form  grew  erect,  and  rigid  with  the  tension 
of  swelling  emotions. 

"  Hush !  hush,  Xaripha !"  interposed  her  father,  "  you  for 
get  we  are  not  alone,  and  much  I  misdoubt  the  deafness  of  this 
young  man." 

"  Pardon  me,"  exclaimed  Edward,  advancing  from  a  corner 
of  the  room  into  which  he  had  withdrawn.  "  Pardon  me,  and 
have  confidence  in  me — notwithstanding  I  have  abused  your 
confidence  in  this — I  am  no  Moor :  I  am  a  Christian  and  an 
Englishman." 

The  announcement  excited  an  exclamation  of  pleased  sur 
prise  from  Xaripha ;  but  it  was  received  by  her  father  with 
the  usual  imperturbable  gravity  and  composure  of  Moorish 
manners. 

"  Strange,"  replied  Abdallah,  "  that  I  who  have  consorted 
so  much  with  Christians  of  all  nations,  should  have  been  de 
ceived  for  an  instant.  But  now  you  have  told  us  what  you 
are,  tell  us  whence,  and  wherefore  you  come." 

Encouraged  by  the  liberal  sentiments  that  had  fallen  from 
father  and  daughter,  and  by  the  deep  insight  into  their  charac 
ters,  positions  and  designs,  which  their  private  conversation 
had  enabled  him  to  take,  Edward  sketched  rapidly,  but  fully, 


88  THE     BERBER. 

the  principal  circumstances  that  had  conspired  to  bring  him. 
into  his  present  position,  concealing  only  the  relationship  be 
tween  himself  and  the  famous  Hassan  Herach. 

The  deepest  interest  was  manifested  by  both  father  and 
daughter  during  the  young  Englishman's  recital  of  his  adven 
tures.  The  conviction  of  the  entire  truth  of  the  story  rested 
upon  the  minds  of  both,  and  Abdallah  mingled,  with  his  ex 
pressions  of  sympathy,  assurances  of  his  assistance  and  pro 
tection. 

"  I  would  serve  you  for  your  own  sake,"  he  said,  "  still 
more  would  I  serve  you  for  the  sake  of  your  country  and 
countrymen — still  more  would  I  do  so  for  the  sake  of  Has 
san  Herach,  to  whom  I  am  under  obligations,  and  to  whom 
I  mainly  look  for  aid  in  carrying  out  a  cherished  design.  May 
Allah  enable  him  to  aid  me." 

"  But  tell  me,"  he  continued,  rising  from  the  cushions  upon 
which  he  had  been  reclining,  to  retire  to  his  sleeping  couch 
within  the  inner  court,  "  tell  me  why  it  is  that  Hassan  Herach 
takes  such  an  interest  in  your  fate." 

"  Ah,  that  I  will  leave  Hassan  himself  to  explain  when  he 
comes,"  replied  Edward. 

"  Tell  me,"  exclaimed  Xaripha  in  a  low  voice,  and  turning 
back  to  the  threshold  of  the  door,  u  tell  me,  was  that  Spanish 
maiden  by  the  banks  of  the  Gaudalete  very  beautiful  ?" 

"  I  thought  her  then  the  most  beautiful  being  in  the  world, 
now  I  know  that  I  was  in  error." 

The  young  Englishman  gazed  earnestly  into  the  depths  of 
the  dark  eyes  that  were  raised  to  his.  A  slight  blush  mantled 
the  maiden's  cheek  as  she  turned  to  rejoin  her  father,  and 


ATALEOFMOROCCO.  89 

passed  with  him  through  the  arched-way  beneath  the  gallery 
into  the  inner  court. 

Edward  again  seated  himself  in  the  door,  but  he  no  longer 
took  any  interest  in  the  manufacture  of  kooskoosoo.  Within 
an  hour  his  whole  being  had  been  changed.  He  was  no  longer 
the  same  man.  His  brain  seemed  on  fire — his  cheeks  glowed 
as  with  a  hectic,  and  his  frame  fairly  shivered  with  nervous 
excitement. 

"  This  is  too  much,"  he  exclaimed,  rising  and  pacing  the 
court.  "  What  can  it  mean  ]  Am  I  loosing  my  senses  ?" 

"  Yah,  yah !"  muttered  Fatima  Laboo,  looking  up  from 
her  employment  that  she  had  resumed.  "  He's  got  a  tongue. 
I  thought  Leila  Xaripha  make  him  talk  some ;  and  now  she  is 
going  to  sing — I  guess  he  hear  well  enough — yah,  yah ! — he 
has  plenty  of  ears  I  think." 

The  tinkling  sounds  of  a  guitar  came  from  the  lattice  above, 
and  then  Xaripha's  voice  poured  forth  in  tones  that  thrilled 
through  every  fibre  of  Edward's  heart,  the  words  of  an  old 
Moorish  ballad.  The  air  was,  like  most  Moorish  tunes,  mo 
notonous,  but  the  singer's  distinct  enunciation  gave  a  suffi 
ciently  spirited  effect  to  the  sonorous  Arabic  words. 

Batel  seidet  Abu  Yakoob  fil  leil  zudjetun, 
Kamet  ala-1-fedger  ve  hia  wahaditun. 

Thus  sang  Xaripha.  The  reader,  however,  most  probably 
is  as  ignorant  of  Arabic  as  was  Edward,  and,  moreover,  has 
not  the  advantage  of  hearing  the  air,  and  of  drinking  in  the  full 
rich  tones  of  the  singer's  voice.  It  will  be,  perhaps,  better 


90  THE     BERBER. 

therefore  to  give  a  translation  of  the  song  rather  than  the  ori 
ginal  Arabic  version — 

The  Emir's  Bride. 

The  Queen  of  Abu  Yakoob  lay  by  his  side  at  night, 
But  lonely  was  the  soltan's  bride  at  early  morning's  light, 
When  springing  from  the  royal  couch  she  seized  Almanzor's  child, 
And  rushed  throughout  the  hareern  with  voice  and  gestures  wild. 

Her  cries  o'erpassed  the  hareem,  and  through  the  streets  rang  out, 
The  veterans  of  Alarcos  took  up  the  doleful  shout — 
Oh  !  where's  the  great  Almanzor,  who  led  across  the  main 
Four  hundred  thousand  reapers  to  reap  the  fields  of  Spain  ? 

Almanzor  the  victorious  !  who  smote  Alphonzo's  ranks, 
From  the  field  of  red  Alarcos  to  swift  Tajo's  bloody  banks. 
•  Oh,  where's  our  lord  the  soltan,  who  rules  from  sea  to  sea, 
From  Soudan  to  Asturias,  from  Al  Garb  to  Tripoli? 

But  not  a  slave  could  answer  that  lady's  doleful  cry, 
And  not  a  kaid  or  bashaw  could  to  the  troops  reply. 
For  not  a  slave  had  seen  him  in  all  the  hareem's  halls. 
And  not  a  kaid  or  bashaw  within  the  city's  walls. 

But  from  the  gates  of  Maraksh  the  doubtful  questions  spread, 
Was  Abu  Yakoob  murdered  ?  was  Abu  Yakoob  dead  ? 
Or  had  he,  tired  of  throne  and  state,  and  touched  by  grace  divine, 
Set  out  to  pray,  in  pilgrim's  guise,  at  Mecca's  holy  shrine? 

Thus,  for  a  year,  they  waited,  then  raised  Almanzor's  son 
To  the  throne  of  that  vast  empire  that  Almanzor's  sword  had  won, 
And  the  fame  of  the  young  emir  rose  on  their  fickle  breath, 
None  thought  of  Abu  Yakoob — none  doubted  of  his  death. 

But,  woe's  me !  that  lone  lady  in  her  lord  deserted  bed, 
She  still  believed  him  living — she  could  not  think  him  dead — 
And  she  vowed  a  vow,  that  never  would  she  know  nor  peace  nor  rest 
Till  she'd  pillowed  her  sad  sorrow  upon  Almanzor's  breast. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  91 

Thus  vowed  that  noble  lady,  and  on  her  weary  way, 
Bearing  Almauzor's  daughter,  she  wandered  many  a  day 
Throughout  that  noble  empire,  stretching  from  sea  to  sea, 
From  Soudan  to  Asturias,  from  Al  Garb  to  Tripoli 

But  God,  to  whom  be  glory,  looked  on  her  heavy  grief, 
And  sent  his  trustiest  angels  to  minister  relief, 
And  turned  her  wandering  footsteps  to  Egypt's  distant  lands, 
Where  by  Nile's  flowing  waters  the  famed  Cairo  stands. 

And  there  in  famed  Cairo,  that  fond  and  faithful  bride 
Clasped  in  her  arms  Almanzor,  at  night  lay  by  his  side, 
And  found  an  end  to  sorrow,  from  all  her  woes  a  rest, 
A  pillow  to  her  aching  head,  upon  Almanzor's  breast — 

Almanzor,  the  great  emir,  who  tired  of  throne  and  state, 
Disguised  in  garb  of  pilgrim,  had  left  his  palace  gate, 
And  gone  on  weary  pilgrimage  to  Mecca's  holy  shrine, 
To  pray,  among  the  humblest,  for  promised  grace  divine. 

Oh  !  who  but  He  who  mado  us,  the  Holy  One  above, 
Shall  dare  to  set  the  measure  to  a  true  heart's  faith  and  love  ! 
For  its  faith  is  as  the  whirlwind,  and  not  a  summer's  breath  ; 
And  its  love  is  as  the  adamant,  enduring  unto  death. 

The  tradition,  still  extant  in  Morocco,  goes  on  to  say  that 
the  happy  couple  resided  for  several  years  in  great  privacy  in 
Cairo — Almanzor  earning  a  living  as  a  baker.  Upon  his  death 
the  soltana,  with  her  daughter,  set  out  for  Morocco.  On  their 
way  they  encountered  one  of  the  princes  of  Tunis,  who  at  once 
conceived  a  violent  passion  for  the  daughter,  and  was  so  un 
scrupulous  in  his  demonstrations  of  admiration  that  her  mother 
was  compelled  to  disclose  her  illustrious  origin ;  whereupon  the 
prince  offered  her  marriage,  and  made  her  the  soltana  sidana 
of  his  hareem. 


92  THEBERBER. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


AGAIN  must  the  reader  revisit  the  bay  of  Cadiz — that 
bright,  beautiful  bay — as  it  lay  gleaming  beneath  the  slanting 
rays  of  the  sun,  just  rising  above  the  distant,  purple  crests  of 
Ronda. 

A  large  three-masted  vessel,  lateen  rigged  on  the  fore  and 
mizzen  masts,  but  with  square  polacre  yards  upon  the  main, 
was  getting  under  way ;  and,  with  a  favoring  breeze  from 
the  east,  was  slowly  working  out,  with  the  aid  of  sweeps,  from 
the  crowd  of  vessels  filling  the  inner  anchorage.  A  small 
battery  of  light  guns  upon  the  forecastle  showed  that  she  was 
not  wholly  unprepared  for  one  of  the  then  most  formidable 
dangers  of  the  sea.  A  high  turreted  pyramidal-shaped  poop- 
cabin,  showed  that  due  attention  had  been  paid  to  the  com 
fortable  berthing  of  such  officials  or  passengers  as  should  be 
entitled  to  the  honors  and  comforts  of  the  quarter-deck. 

To  this  class  evidently  belonged  two  ladies,  who,  attended 
by  an  elderly  gentleman,  were  leaning  over  the  railing  of  the 
high  peaked-up  cabin ;  and  watching  with  an  air  of  marked 
interest  the  slowly  receding  landmarks,  the  towers,  and  forts, 
and  towns,  and  quintas,  and  bridges,  and  mountains  that  dot 
ted  the  entire  sweep  of  the  bay. 


ATALEOFMOROCCO.  93 

The  gentleman  was  a  stern,  hard-featured  man,  of  mid 
dle  size,  and  about  fifty  years  of  age.  He  was  habited  in  a 
blue  cloth  cloak,  beneath  which,  when  thrown  open,  could  be 
seen  a  leathern  jacket,  crossed  with  bands  of  fine  steel  mail, 
which,  although  not  covering  continuously  the  upper  part  of 
his  person,  would  have  afforded  a  very  good  protection  against 
a  sword  cut  or  a  dagger's  thrust.  Around  his  waist  he  wore 
a  wide  leather  belt,  with  slits  in  it  for  pistols,  and  depending 
from  it  a  long  very  old  fashioned  spado,  the  scabbard  open 
ing  by  means  of  a  spring,  to  save  time  and  trouble  in  drawing 
the  blade,  which  had,  most  probably,  seen  service  as  far  back 
as  the  days  of  Charles  V. 

The  ladies — but  to  introduce  these  properly,  it  is  neces 
sary  to  go  back  some  three  or  four  weeks,  to  the  time  when 
Edward  Carlyle  went  last  a  love-making  to  the  gardens  of  the 
Guadalete,  when  a  very  few  words  will  suffice  to  make  the 
reader  acquainted  with  the  graceful  beings,  who,  with  inter 
twined  arms,  and  with  their  big  black  eyes  floating  in  the 
moisture  of  sad  and  tender  emotion,  were  taking  a  lingering 
look  at  the  receding  glories  of  city  and  bay. 

An  intense  excitement  followed  the  disappearance  of  Ed 
ward  and  his  rival,  Don  Diego  de  Orsolo.  Every  effort  was 
made  to  find  some  clue  to  their  fate.  The  police  of  Cadiz 
were  incited  to  the  utmost  by  large  offers  of  reward  from 
Edward's  father.  Don  Diego's  numerous  relatives  and  friends 
took  up  the  subject  with  energy,  while  the  officers  of  the  In 
quisition  made  their  perquisitions  in  the  matter  with  their  usual 
perseverance  and  astuteness ;  but  nothing  could  be  ascertained 
beyond  the  fact  that  pursuers  and  pursued  had  both  stood 


94  THE     BERBER. 

out  to  sea — even  conjecture  was  at  fault  as-  to  their  ultimate 
fate. 

The  shock  proved  too  much  for  the  enfeebled  health  of  the 
English  merchant.  In  a  few  days  the  body  of  the  heretic  was 
carried  across  to  Rota,  and  buried  in  unconsecrated  ground. 
No  sooner  had  he  breathed  his  last  than  the  cormorants  of  the 
law  and  the  church,  who  had  been  eagerly  watching  for  his 
demise,  rushed  to  divide  the  spoil ;  but  great  was  their  disap 
pointment  upon  finding  that  the  fortune  they  had  considered 
almost  within  their  grasp  had  vanished,  leaving  nothing  but  a 
country  seat  covered  with  mortgages,  a  dozen  or  two  pipes  of 
poor  sherry,  and  a  few  personal  effects  hardly  valuable  enough 
to  excite,  still  less  to  gratify,  the  cupidity  of  the  lowest  clerks 
in  the  departments  of  the  Administrador,  Rcgistrador,  &c. 
The  experienced  merchant  had  proved  himself  too  cunning  for 
them — having  contrived  to  quietly  and  secretly  transfer  all  of 
his  property  to  his  own  country,  where,  by  his  last  will,  it  was 
to  be  held  in  trust  for  a  period  of  years,  to  await  the  turning 
up  of  one  or  both  of  his  lost  sons. 

The  disappearance  of  Don  Diego,  of  course  put  an  end, 
for  a  time  at  least,  to  the  marriage  schemes  entertained  for 
the  fair  Isabel  by  her  father.  There  was  no  wealthy  suitor  at 
hand  ready  to  supply  Don  Diego's  place ;  and,  in  fact,  it  may 
be  questioned  whether,  stern  and  hard  as  he  was,  Don  Pedro 
de  Estivan  would,  in  any  other  case  than  that  of  his  kinsman, 
Orsolo,  have  undertaken  to  force  his  daughter  into  marrying 
contrary  to  her  inclinations.  Luckily  there  occurred  no  new 
opportunity ;  and  luckily  too,  there  happened  an  improvement 
in  Don  Pedro's  fortunes,  that  took  away  one  of  the  temp- 


ATALEOFMOROCCO.  95 

tations  to  exercise  too  sternly  what  every  good  Spaniard  of 
that  day  thought  his  undoubted  right — the  right  of  marrying 
his  daughters  to  whomsoever  he  pleased. 

For  years  Don  Pedro  had  been  vainly  soliciting  some 
of  the  lucrative  colonial  appointments  in  the  gift  of  the  Spa 
nish  crown.  Now,  as  if  to  console  him  for  the  loss  of  a 
wealthy  son-in-law,  the  nomination  to  the  governorship  of  Fu- 
ertaventura,  one  of  the  Canaries,  was  proffered  him.  The  ap 
pointment  Don  Pedro  considered  far  below  his  deserts ;  but  he 
was  as  poor  as  he  was  proud,  and  there  was  connected  with  the 
office  a  monopoly  of  sugar,  then  one  of  the  chief  products  of 
the  Canaries,  which  induced  him  to  waive  his  claims  to  the 
Governor-generalship  of  all  the  Islands,  and  accept  that  of 
Fuertaventura  alone. 

Not  long  did  the  worthy  don  hesitate,  when  the  appoint 
ment,  through  the  influence  of  his  friend,  the  Marques  de 
San  Roque  was  offered  to  him.  The  struggle  to  keep  up  ap 
pearances  was  wearing  away  his  health  and  temper.  He  was 
glad  of  an  excuse  for  breaking  up  his  already  reduced  establish 
ment,  and  he  at  once  took  passage  for  himself  and  daughters 
in  a  government  polacre  that  was  getting  ready  for  Teneriffe 
— the  same  polacre  that  we  have  seen  drawing  out  from  the 
inner  harbor,  and  turning  seaward  as  she  opened  the  mouth  of 
the  bay — the  same  polacre  that  may  now  be  seen  rounding 
Point  Sebastian — and  having  obtained  a  fair  offing  from  the 
shore,  hauling  her  wind  and  standing  down  along  the  Afri 
can  shore. 

It  was  a  questionable  experiment,  that  of  hugging  the 
Spanish  and  Moorish  coasts,  thus  making  a  direct  course  for 


96  THEBERBER. 

Lancerota,  and  so  it  seemed  to  an  old  quartermaster,  who 
very  freely  expressed  his  objurgations  of  the  captain's  stupidity 
in  the  hearing  of  the  sisters,  who  despite  the  increasing  heat  of 
the  sun,  still  kept  their  position,  in  the  shadow  of  the  sail,  on 
the  cabin  deck. 

The  movements  and  mutterings  of  the  old  sailor  at  length 
attracted  their  attention.  Juanita,  impulsive  and  fearless, 
dropped  her  sister's  arm,  and  gliding  to  his  side,  tapped  his 
shoulder  slightly  with  her  fan.  The  old  man  looked  up  from 
his  work,  and  a  smile  of  admiration  chased  the  temporary 
expression  of  moroseness  from  his  still  frank  and  open  coun 
tenance.  He  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  cap  in  hand,  awaited 
Juanita's  commands. 

"  Tell  me,"  she  said,  "  what  is  it  that  disturbs  you  1  Did 
I  understand  you  aright,  that  there  is  danger  in  keeping  this 
shore  in  sight  f 

The  old  man  looked  for  some  time  at  the  young  girl,  and 
then  deliberately  turned  his  gaze  upon  Isabel.  From  the  sis 
ters  his  eye  wandered  to  the  distant  shore.  His  face  grew 
serious,  but  he  said  nothing ;  his  only  reply  to  the  question 
was  a  grave  shake  of  the  head. 

Isabel  began  to  feel  alarmed.  Juanita's  interest  was 
aroused,  and  she  placed  her  hand  upon  the  arm  of  the  sailor, 
and  again  repeated  the  question. 

"  What  is  it  we  have  to  dread  ?"  she  demanded  impera 
tively.  "  Are  we  not  taking  the  most  direct  course  for  Fuer- 
taventura  ?  Why  an  unsafe  one  ?" 

"  Because  of  the  pirates,  senorita ;  we  shall  be  more  apt  to 


ATALEOFMOROCCO.  97 

be  picked  up  by  some  fellow  lying  in  the  mouth  of  the  straits, 
or  under  some  headland  of  the  Moorish  coast." 

Isabel  grasped  her  sister's  arm  and  drew  her  back,  as  if 
deprecating  any  further  inquiry  into  such  a  subject.  Juanita, 
however,  was  of  a  different  spirit ;  she  did  not  feel  that  danger 
could  be  eluded  by  merely  shutting  the  eyes,  and  although 
her  heart  quickened  its  beats,  and  her  breath  came  short,  she 
continued  her  questioning. 

"Why,  then,  do  we  take  this  course]"  she  demanded. 
"  Why  not  go  further  from  the  land  ]" 

"  Because  the  captain,  in  despite  all  that  I  can  say,  persists 
in  asserting  that  the  rovers  cruise  farther  out  at  sea ;  that  they 
understand  the  trick  of  our  vessels  in  making  a  westing  of 
three  or  four  hundred  miles,  and  running  round  Madeira  to 
the  Canaries,  and  that  they  are  on  the  watch  for  them  accord 
ingly  :  true,  they  used  to  do  so,  but  they  have  changed  their 
plans  lately.  They  have  found  out  that  something  besides 
fishing-boats  is  to  be  picked  up  along  shore.  I  shall  be  much 
surprised  if  we  don't  catch  sight  of  a  bloody  flag  before  we  see 
Lancerote." 

"  But  surely  we  need  not  fear  if  we  do  meet  with  one — are 
we  not  armed1?  these  guns — are  they  useless]"  demanded 
the  younger  sister. 

"  Hush,  Juanita !"  replied  Isabel,  pressing  her  sister's  arm 
with  a  trembling  grasp  ;  "  how  lightly  you  talk — you  speak 
of  a  battle  with  Moorish  pirates  in  a  tone  that  frightens 
me." 

"  Well,  Isabel,  I  shall  not  invoke  a  battle,  for  your  sake ; 


98  THEBEKBER. 

but  I  must  confess  that  there  is  something  in  the  idea  that 
makes  my  blood  tingle  not  unpleasantly.  You  remember  the 
song,  Isabel,"  and  the  young  girl  sang,  in  a  low  voice,  a  verse 
of  the  ballad  of  Dragut  the  Corsair : 

"  There  came  a  wreath  of  smoke  from  out  a  culverine, 
The  corsair's  stern  it  broke,  and  he  sank  into  the  brine  ; 
Down  Moor  and  fettered  Christian  went  beneath  the  billows'  roar, 
But  hell  had  work  for  Dragut,  and  he  swam  safe  ashore." 

But  I  suppose  if  the  fight  actually  took  place,  I  should  be  as 
frightened  as  you." 

"  The  Virgin  preserve  you,  senorita,"  said  the  old  sailor, 
"  from  learning  by  experience  how  you  would  feel  in  an  en 
counter  with  pirates.  As  for  fighting,  I  fear  there  would  not 
be  much  of  it  in  our  case.  Our  batteries  are  small ;  the  ship 
is  in  bad  order,  and  but  half  manned.  No — if  we  meet  with 
a  pirate  our  only  chance  will  be  to  run." 

"  Run !"  exclaimed  Juanita,  "  I  am  afraid  in  that  case  we 
shall  not  rival  the  fame  of  the  Knights  of  Malta.  They  will 
never  sing  of  us : 

"  Oh,  swiftly,  very  swiftly,  they  up  the  straits  have  gone ! 
Oh,  swiftly  flies  the  corsair,  and  swift  the  cross  comes  on  ! 
The  cross  upon  yon  banner  that  streams  unto  the  breeze, 
It  is  the  sign  of  victory — the  cross  of  the  Maltese." 

It  was  now  near  the  middle  of  the  forenoon,  and  the  direct 
rays  of  the  sun,  aided  by  the  reflected  glare  from  the  ocean, 
making  it  unpleasant  to  remain  longer  on  deck,  the  two  ladies 
retired  to  the  cabin,  where  they  amused  themselves  with  the 
usual  employments  of  the  Spanish  fair — embroidering,  and 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  99 

singing  to  the  guitar.  Dinner  filled  up  a  part  of  the  time ;  the 
customary  siesta  finished  another  portion  of  the  day ;  and  ad 
justing  their  mantillas,  and  spreading  their  fans  to  shade  their 
eyes  from  the  declining  sun,  the  sisters  again  made  their  ap 
pearance  upon  the  deck. 

It  was  a  glorious  afternoon — golden  and  glowing,  but  soft 
and  subdued.  Abeam  of  the  polacre  stretched  the  long 
passage  between  Calpe  and  Abyla — the  famous  pillars  of  Her 
cules — into  the  Mediterranean.  On  the  quarter  were  the  yel 
lowish  headlands  of  Trafalgar,  and  on  the  bow  the  darker  cliffs 
of  Cape  Spartel,  and  the  browner  summits  of  Bubanna,  (now, 
sometimes,  called  Mount  Washington,)  and  other  Moorish 
hills.  The  polacre  was  directly  off  the  entrance  to  the  Straits. 

Isabel  seated  herself,  and  leaning  upon  the  carved  railing, 
gazed  pensively  upon  the  broad  tract  of  water  that  had  been 
passed  since  morning. 

"  Come,  Isabel,"  exclaimed  the  younger  sister ;  "  let  us 
walk,  the  vessel  is  very  steady  now ;  come,  'tis  no  time  for 
musing,  especially  with  such  a  doleful  countenance ;  and  as  for 
sighing,  there  is  no  occasion  for  it.  I  tell  you  your  lover  will 
come  to  life  again ;  and  if  he  should  not,  you  can  afford  to  lose 
him,  even  if  you  loved  him  ever  so  desperately." 

"  How  so  ?"  demanded  Isabel. 

"Why  you  can  balance  your  loss  of  Don  Edward  by 
your  escape  from  Don  Diego,  and  thank  the  Virgin  then  for 
her  mercies.  But  the  case  is  not  so  bad  as  that — Don  Edward 
is  alive,  and  besides,  you  do  not  love  him." 

"  How  know  you  that  ?"  inquired  Isabel. 

"  You  have  told  me  so  fifty  times." 


100  THE     BERBER. 

"  But  I  may  not  have  known  myself,"  returned  the  elder, 
blushing,  and  drawing  the  slender  figure  of  Juanita  down  to 
her  side. 

"  Aye,  but  I  know  it  from  a  surer  source ;  nay,  don't  be 
frightened;  I  know  it  only  from  my  own  observation  and 
penetration.  You  do  not  love  him,  and  what  is  more,  you 
could  not  love  him ;  he  is  not  suited  to  you." 

"  And  why  not,  pray  "?  In  what  have  you  discovered  that 
he  is  deficient  f  exclaimed  Isabel.  "  Is  he  not  the  handsomest 
man  in  Cadiz  ?" 

Juanita  made  a  gesture  of  assent. 

"  And  brave,  and  generous,  and  accomplished  ]" 

"  True,  true,  all,"  replied  the  young  girl ;  "  but  still  you 
love  him  not." 

"And  if  I  do  not,"  said  Isabel,  "  I  am  sure  I  can  not  tell 
the  reason  why." 

"  But  I  can,"  replied  Juanita  ;  "  he  is  unsuited  to  you  by 
reason  of  resemblance.  You,  Isabel,  are  not  of  that  class  of 
women  who  can  love  men  precisely  their  equals.  You  de 
mand  more  of  will — more  strength  of  character — than  you 
have  yourself.  The  man  you  love  must  be  a  little  your 
superior — Edward  is  not." 

"  And  you,  Juanita,"  interrupted  Isabel,  laughing,  and  look- ' 
ing  up,  but  with  an  expression  of  surprise,  "  which  of  these 
classes  do  you  suppose  that  you  belong  to,  or  rather  to  what 
class  do  you  expect  to  belong  when  you  grow  up  ?" 

"  Grow  up,"  exclaimed  Juanita,  starting  to  her  feet ;  "  look 
at  me,  Isabel.  I  am  half  a  head  taller  than  you  are  now.  Is 
not  that  enough  ?  But  you  wish  to  know  to  which  class  I 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  101 


belong  -  to  neither.  I  could  not  lovsv  a  'man-  a- 
a  little  my  superior.  I  should  detest  my  equal  —  I  should 
despise  my  inferior  ;  although  I  can  conceive  an  assemblage 
of  qualities  in  a  man  of  no  great  strength  of  mind  that  could 
win  my  regard,  and  perhaps  if  I  were  called  upon  to  cherish 
and  protect  him,  I  might  cultivate  a  certain  degree  of  affection 
for  him  —  a  kind  of  motherly  sentiment.  Don't  laugh  Isabel, 
it  is  true.  I  have  thought  it  all  over  a  hundred  times.  But  the 
man  for  me  to  love  —  Oh  !  as  I  could  love  such  a  man  —  is  one 
who  is  vastly  my  sif^erior,  not  so  much  in  accomplishment, 
nor  even  in  intellect,  but  in  irresistible  force  of  character  ;  a 
man  who  will  compel  my  spirit  to  bend  its  knee  to  his  ;  who 
will  command  my  soul  to  stand  still,  and  shine  on  him,  as 
Joshua  commanded  the  sun  ;  who  can  trample  my  will  to  the 
dust  beneath  the  tread  of  his  irresistible  and  indomitable  en 
ergy,  and  fixity,  and  courage.  You,  Isabel,  require  that  the 
man  you  love  •  should  make  you  look  up  to,  and  admire  him, 
and  that  he  should  guide  and  protect  you.  I  require  that  he 
should  make  me  worship  him  and  fear  him  ;  and  that,  instead 
of  guiding  and  protecting  me,  he  should  master  me.  I  want 
that  he  should  conquer  the  domain  of  my  soul,  add  it  to  his 
own  ;  and  then  generously  divide  the  sovereignty  between  us." 
"  Juanita  dear,"  exclaimed  Isabel,  seizing  her  sister's  arm, 
"  Are  you  crazy  1  Where  did  you  get  such  notions  ?  Who 
told  you  all  this  nonsense  1"  And  nonsense  it  seemed  to  the 
elder  sister,  who,  although  she  had  not  been  subjected  to  the 
rigid  restrictions  of  Spanish  female  education,  had  never  ac 
customed  her  thoughts  to  any  very  bold  sallies  beyond  the 
pale  of  conventional  propriety  and  prejudice. 


102 


THE     BERBER. 


^  Who- should*  tell* me,"  replied  Juanita,  "except  my  own 
heart  ?  everything  is  not  to  be  learned  from  the  sermons  of 
Father  Padilla." 

"Nor  from  those  foolish  romances,  or  from  those  Italian 
poets.  But  tell  me,  Juanita,  do  you  expect  ever  to  encounter 
this  conqueror — this  tyrant — and  how  will  you  know  him  if 
you  do1?" 

"  Instinct,  sister ;  I  shall  feel  his  presence  as  the  flowers  feel 
the  sun  ;  and  if  I  ever  do  meet  him ." 

"  If  you  do  meet  him,"  interrupted  Isabel,  "  think  you  that 
you  will  surrender  without  a  struggle?" 

"  Oh,  that  will  depend,"  replied  Juanita,  laughing,  "  upon 
the  strength  of  his  array  and  the  way  in  which  he  marshalls 
his  forces.  If  he  lets  me  see  at  first  that  he  is  too  strong  for 
me,  I  shall  surrender  at  once." 

"  And  if  he  does  not,  woe  betide  him,"  exclaimed  Isabel, 
rising  and  passing  her  arm  around  her  sister's  waist.  "  Poor 
knight,  I  pity  him*  He  will  have  to  invoke  Santiago.  Cupid 
won't  help  him.  My  dear  little  chica  will  attack  him  and 
rout  him,  horse  and  foot.  But  what  is  that  1  Look  Juanita, 
what  can  it  be  f 

The  conversation  of  the  sisters  was  interrupted  by  a  move 
ment  among  the  sailors  on  the  forecastle  of  the  polacre.  Hur 
ried  exclamations  passed  fore  and  aft,  while  several  officers  as 
cended  the  rigging  of  the  mainmast  to  get  a  better  look  at  an 
object  that  was  attracting  all  eyes  towards  the  distant  Afri 
can  coast. 

"  Do  you  see  that  black  speck  hereaway,  senorita  ?"  said 
the  old  quarter-master,  "  Well,  that  is  a  large  galley.  She  has 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  103 

no  sails  set,  but  the  best  eyes  among  us  say  she  has  her  sweeps 
out,  and  that  she  is  pulling  for  this  polacre." 

"But  why  does  she  not  use  her  sails?" demanded  Isabel 
with  breathless  interest,  « the  wind  is  fair  for  her  if  she  is 
coming  this  way." 

"  That  is  just  it,"  returned  the  old  man,  "  Why  don't  she 
senorita  ?  I'm  afraid  it  is  because  she  wants  to  creep  down 
upon  us  as  closely  as  possible  without  being  seen.  But  we 
shall  know  soon,  that  is,  if  the  captain  takes  my  advice,  which 
is,  to  up  with  the  helm  and  square  away  for  the  west,  right 
before  the  wind.  That  will  let  the  fellow  know  that  we  have 
discovered  him,  and  if  he  wishes  to  overhaul  us  he  will  have 
to  set  his  sails  and  make  the  best  use  of  his  wind." 

The  manoeuvre  indicated  was  at  length  executed,  and  for  a 
few  moments  the  hopes  of  the  groups  on  the  deck  of  the 
polacre  rose  as  the  black  speck  astern  remained  without 
change.  These  hopes,  however,  were  destined  to  a  cruel  dis 
appointment.  Suddenly  the  black  speck  disappeared,  and,  as 
if  by  magic,  there  gleamed  the  white  canvass  of  a  large  trian 
gular  sail.  A  deep  sensation  was  manifest  throughout  the 
polacre.  It  was  evident  that  the  galley  was  in  chase. 

"Think  you  it  is  a  Moorish  corsair?"  demanded  Isabel, 
supporting  her  trembling  figure  by  a  grasp  upon  her  younger 
but  more  composed  sister. 

The  quarter-master  took  a  long  look  at  the  pursuing  craft, 
and  then  deliberately  turned  his  eyes  upon  his  fair  auditors. 
An  ominous  shake  of  the  head  was  his  only  reply. 

Isabel  clung  close  to  her  sister. 


104  THE     BERBER. 

"  If  yonder  vessel  is  a  Moorish  corsair,"  whispered  Jua- 
nita,  "  answer  me  one  question — What  will  be  our  chance  of 
escape  ?" 

"  Oh  !  that  depends  upon  their  rate  of  sailing.  This  craft 
is  not  so  slow  before  the  wind,  and  there  is  many  a  pirate 
that  she  will  outsail  easily ;  but  there  is  one  of  the  Salee 
rovers — perhaps  you  have  heard  of  him " 

The  sisters  shuddered,  and  even  the  blood  fled  for  a 
moment  from  Juanita's  cheek  and  lips. 

"Oh!  I  see  that  you  have  heard  of  him.  Well,  if  that 
should  prove  to  be  the  galley  of  Hassan  Herach,  there  is  no 
hope  for  us  in  running." 

"  Then,  we  must  fight !"  exclaimed  Don  Pedro,  who,  for 
the  first  time,  had  been  brought  out  of  his  cabin  by  the  bustle 
on  deck.  "  Never  fear — we  shall  be  able  to  drive  off  a  set  of 
rascally  Moors,  even  if  this  famous  Herach  is  at  the  head  of 
them." 

Don  Pedro  spoke  lightly  and  encouragingly,  but  an  ex 
pression  of  concern  tempered  the  look  of  affection  which  beam 
ed  from  his  usually  stern  face,  as  his  eyes  fell  upon  his  daughters. 
The  maidens,  almost  for  the  first  time  in  their  lives,  felt  them 
selves  drawn  to  him  by  a  sentiment  of  close  and  intimate  re 
lationship.  A  glimmering  of  the  love  that  they  might  have  had 
for  him  flashed  upon  the  minds  of  both.  Something  of  the 
same  perception  dawned  upon  the  mind  of  Don  Pedro.  Not 
that  he  had  not  at  heart  a  strong  affection  for  his  children, 
but  circumstances  had  prevented  him  from  manifesting  it,  or 
of  making  any  effort  to  call  forth  a  corresponding  sentiment 
in  return.  He  had  been  too  busy  with  the  constant  struggle 


A    TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  105 

between  his  pride  and  his  poverty  to  love  them  much  or  to 
make  them  love  him.  With  expressions  of  tenderness  that 
he  had  not  vouchsafed  before  for  years,  he  conducted  them  to 
their  cabin.  Returning  to  the  deck,  he  joined  the  anxious  council 
of  officers.  The  energy  and  courage  of  the  don  were  irre 
sistible,  and  it  was  unanimously  resolved  to  fight. 

But  to  fight  with  any  chance  of  success,  it  was  necessary 
to  put  the  polacre  in  order  for  battle — no  easy  matter,  ow 
ing  to  the  inefficiency  of  the  officers,  and  the  confusion  among 
the  crew.  The  name  of  Hassan  Herach  had  spread  among 
them,  and  nothing  would  they  listen  to  but  the  exaggerated 
and  contradictory  stories  of  a  dozen  voluble  raconteurs,  who 
made  out  the  famous  rover  to  be  of  all  ages,  colors,  and 
characteristics. 

Don  Pedro,  however,  was  in  his  element.  He  was  an 
experienced  soldier ;  and,  although  harsh  in  manner,  and  sel 
fish  in  disposition,  he  possessed  a  commanding  energy,  that 
just  fitted  him  to  take  the  lead  in  moments  of  hesitation  or 
danger.  By  his  encouraging  exhortations  to  the  officers, 
and  his  stern  commands  to  the  men,  the  polacre  was  at  length 
in  some  degree  prepared  for  battle.  Arms  and  ammunition  were 
produced;  the  batteries  put  in  working  order;  the  men  assigned 
to  their  quarters,  and  a  couple  of  brass  culverines  hoisted 
up  from  the  hold,  and  mounted,  as  stern  chasers,  upon  the 
cabin  deck. 

The  sisters  retired  to  the  cabin,  where  sat  Father  Pa- 
dilla  in  an  ecstacy  of  fear.  In  one  hand  he  held  his  beads,  in 
the  other  a  huge  bota  of  sherry,  which  he  not  unfrequently  ap 
plied  to  his  mouth,  while  in  the  intervals  he  muttered  his 

5* 


106 


THE     BERBER. 


prayers,  and  industriously  fingered  the  rosary.  Isabel  threw 
herself  before  an  image  of  the  Virgin,  while  Juanita  took  her 
seat  by  the  stern-window,  and  gazed  at  the  advancing  sail  that 
was  gleaming  in  the  last  rays  of  the  purple  twilight. 

It  was  soon  evident  that  the  pursuing  galley  was  the  best 
sailer,  and  by  ten  o'clock  she  had  got  near  enough  to  open 
with  her  bow  guns  on  the  polacre.  There  was  no  longer  any 
doubt  as  to  the  character  of  the  galley,  or  as  to  the  fate  that 
awaited  the  Spaniards  in  case  they  suffered  themselves  to  be 
captured.  The  fire  was  returned  with  spirit. 

For  half  an  hour  this  cannonade  was  kept  up  without  much 
damage  on  either  side,  although  both  vessels  were  struck  by 
several  raking  shots.  In  the  meanwhile  the  galley  continued 
rapidly  to  overhaul  the  polacre,  and  the  danger  of  being 
boarded  in  overwhelming  numbers,  according  to  the  favorite 
mode  of  attack  practised  by  the  Salee  rovers,  momentarily 
increased. 

Don  Pedro  encouraged  the  men,  at  the  stern  guns,  to  re 
newed  exertion ;  but  still,  although  several  of  their  shots 
passed  through  the  galley's  foresail,  and  swept  amid  the 
crowds  around  her  forecastle-batteries,  no  injury  was  done 
that  could  impede  the  rapid  advance  of  the  Moors.  So  close 
were  they  now  that  the  rattling  of  musketry  began  to  mingle 
with  the  heavy  boom  of  the  cannon  and  the  shouts  and  cheers 
of  the  combatants.  The  guns  on  both  sides  were  of  very 
small  calibre.  The  corsair's  batteries  consisted  of  two  or 
three,  four  and  six  pounders,  mounted  on  the  forecastle  en 
barbette,  or  looking  over  the  low  bulwarks,  instead  of  through 
port-holes.  As  many  more  were  mounted  at  the  stern  of  the 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  107 

galley.  The  damage  on  either  side,  therefore,  after  an  hour's 
fighting,  was  small  in  comparison  with  the  terrible  effects  pro 
duced  by  the  full,  heavy  armaments  of  later  days. 

Steadily  Juanita  maintained  her  position  at  the  open  port, 
from  which  she  had  a  distinct  view  of  the  deck  of  the  crowded 
galley,  lit  up  by  the  continual  flashes  of  the  guns ;  and  even 
when  a  shot  came  crashing  in  through  the  timbers  over  her 
head  she  stirred  not. 

"  Strange,"  thought  the  young  girl,  glancing  at  the  cowering 
forms  of  her  sister  and  Father  Padilla,  "strange  that  I  feel  no 
fear.  My  heart  beats  high,  but  I  do  not  tremble  ;  and  yet 
perhaps  it  is  not  courage,  'tis  confidence  in  my  fate.  I  cannot 
feel  that  I  am  in  danger." 

A  scream  from  Isabel  drew  the  attention  of  the  young 
girl.  The  cabin  door  was  open,  and  entering  there  appeared 
several  sailors  bearing  the  body  of  Don  Pedro.  He  was  not  dead, 
but  a  deep  wound  in  the  breast,  from  which  the  life  blood  was 
rapidly  welling,  left  him  but  a  few  moments  to  live.  The 
sisters  flew  to  their  father  and  assisted  in  supporting  him  to 
a  couch.  As  the  tide  of  life  ebbed  the  long  buried  affections 
of  Don  Pedro  were  disclosed  to  himself.  He  felt  that  the 
bitterest  pang  of  death  was  in  leaving  his  daughters,  and  that 
too  under  such  circumstances — and,  to  such  a  fate  !  He 
gazed  at  them  by  the  dim  light  from  the  single  lamp  with  a 
look  of  anguish.  He  pressed  their  hands  in  his  feeble  grasp. 
His  lips  moved — 

"  Shall  I  call  Father  Padilla  ?"  whispered Isabel. 

The  dying  man  rolled  his  eyes  in  the  direction  of  the  priest 
and  shook  his  head.  Isabel  loosened  the  cross  from  her  bosom 
and  pressed  it  to  his  lips. 


108  THE     BERBER. 

At  this  moment  a  shot  from  the  galley  shattered  the 
rudder  of  the  polacre,  and  the  next  instant  another,  ranging 
a-head,  carried  away  the  slings  of  the  lateen  fore-yard,  which 
allowed  the  polacre  to  broach  to,  and  placed  her  directly 
athwart  the  advancing  galley.  Unluckily  the  Spaniards  carried 
no  guns  except  the  small  battery  we  have  mentioned  on  the 
forecastle,  and  this  at  the  moment  was  unmanned,  or  an  ef 
fective  raking  fire  might  have  been  poured  into  the  Moors, 
to  avoid  which  they  would  have  been  compelled  to  give  up 
their  design  of  boarding. 

A  few  of  the  Spaniards  rushed  forward  to  the  forecastle 
guns,  but  it  was  too  late.  The  bow  of  the  low  galley  passed 
directly  beneath  the  stem  of  the  polacre,  and  both  vessels 
were  at  once  locked  together  by  barbed  boarding  hooks  and 
grappling  irons. 

"  Follow  me,"  shouted  the  captain  of  the  corsair,  "  beat 
down  the  dogs,  but  kill  none  who  surrender.  Follow  me — 
through  the  cabin  ports !"  and  making  a  spring  from  the 
rail  of  his  vessel,  the  young  man  threw  himself  into  the  cabin 
window  of  the  polacre.  Before,  however,  a  single  one  of  his 
crew  could  follow  him,  the  momentum  of  the  galley  whirled 
the  polacre  around  and  brought  both  vessels  along-side  of  each 
other.  The  Moors  were  now  compelled  to  board  over  the 
quarter  railing,  leaving  their  young  captain  unsupported  in 
the  cabin. 

For  a  moment  Hassan — or  if  the  reader  prefers  his  Chris 
tian  name,  Henry  Carlyle — was  somewhat  taken  aback,  at 
sight  of  the  scene  revealed  by  the  dim  lamp  hanging  from  the 
ceilings.  On  one  side  sat  muttering  and  mumbling  Father 


A     TALE     OFMOROCCO.  109 

Padilla,  on  the  other  lay  the  dead  body  of  Don  Pedro,  from 
which  the  breath  of  life  had  just  departed,  and  leaning  over 
it  were  the  graceful  forms  of  the  sisters.  Satisfied  that  there  was 
no  opposition  to  be  encountered,  Hassan  dropped  his  sword, 
and  touching  the  half-paralyzed  priest,  he  demanded  the  names 
and  rank  of  the  inmates  of  the  cabin ;  but  not  an  intelligi 
ble  word  could  he  get  in  reply  from  the  worthy  padre,  who, 
what  with  fear,  and  the  contents  of  the  bota,  was  nearly 
speechless. 

The  noise  of  the  combat  increased  as  the  Moors  poured 
in  over  the  bulwarks  of  the  unlucky  polacre. 

Hassan  advanced  towards  the  sisters — "  I  know  not  who 
you  are,  ladies,  and  I  have  no  time  to  ask  ;  but  trust  in  me, 
your  fate  may  not  be  so  bad  as  you  fear ;  at  least  I  will  do 
all  I  can  to  alleviate  it.  Cover  your  faces  in  your  mantil 
las  ;  or,  here,  muffle  yourselves  well  in  these  hangings — be 
sure  and  let  none  of  my  men  see  your  faces,  and  I  will 
protect  you." 

Passing  through  the  outer  cabin,  where  were  huddled  toge 
ther  the  terrified  domestics  of  Don  Estivan,  the  Moorish  cap 
tain  gained  the  deck.  The  combat  still  raged,  but  the  voice 
of  the  rover  soon  brought  it  to  an  end. 

"  Quarter,  men  ! — give  the  Kaffirs  quarter !''  he  shouted 
in  a  voice  that  sent  the  rolling  Arabic  gutturals  far  above 
the  din  of  the  conflict.  "  Save  as  many  of  the  slaves  as 
you  can." 

The  Spaniards  threw  down  their  arms,  and  the  Moors 
proceeded  to  secure  their  prisoners;  and  although  the  fight 
had  been  desperate,  and  their  passions  fully  aroused,  they  did 


110  THE    BERBER. 

so  with  much  less  violence  and  cruelty  than  was,  at  that  time, 
usually  practised  toward  Christian  slaves ;  or,  for  the  matter 
of  that,  by  the  Christians  toward  their  Moorish  captives  when, 
in  their  turn,  the  Christians  happened  to  be  conquerors. 

A  number  of  the  stoutest  captives  were  removed  to  the 
galley  and  chained  to  the  oars  ;  a  prize  crew  was  then  put  on 
board  the  polacre,  and  both  vessels  made  sail  for  Salee. 

Among  the  prisoners  transferred  to  the  galley,  were 
the  sisters — leaving  unluckily,  as  it  afterwards  proved  for 
them,  their  two  female  servants  aboard  of  the  polacre.  The 
inner  cabin — the  one  in  which  took  place  the  first  interview 
between  Edward  and  his  brother — was  assigned  exclusively 
to  their  use.  No  one  entered  except  a  black  slave  bearing 
their  meals ;  and  much  to  their  surprise,  the  dreaded 
rais,  Hassan  Herach,  evinced  no  disposition  to  intrude  upon 
their  privacy. 

This  treatment,  so  different  from  what  they  had  expected, 
at  length  excited  their  curiosity  as  well  as  surprise,  and  as  each 
day  closed  without  bringing  the  presence  of  the  rover,  the  sen 
timent  increased  in  force,  and  served  to  neutralise,  to  some 
little  extent,  their  grief  for  the  death  of  Don  Pedro,  and  their 
anxiety  for  themselves.  The  third  day  closed,  and  found  them 
fully  interested  in  the  questions — why  had  they  received  no 
message  from  the  captain  of  the  corsair  ?  what  kind  of  a  man 
would  he  prove  ?  and  who  could  the  young  man  be  who  had 
addressed  them  in  the  cabin  of  the  polacre  1 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  Ill 


CHAPTER    IX. 


LIGHT  head  winds  and  calms  retarded  the  progress  of  the 
corsair  and  her  prize.  On  the  tenth  day,  however,  the  scene 
changed — a  single  black  cloud  swept  rapidly  along  the  surface 
of  the  ocean,  lashing  it  to  foam,  and  leaving  behind  it  a  heavy 
sea,  and  a  strong  wind,  which  blew  a  gale  for  several  hours. 
After  the  neucleus  of  the  tornado  had  passed,  and  the  sun  had 
again  risen,  the  polacre  was  no  where  to  be  seen.  It  was  de 
cided  that  she  had  been  compelled  to  scud,  and  that  it  would 
be  a  useless  delay  to  lie  by  for  her;  so  the  prow  of  the 
galley  was  again  turned  for  Salee.  On  the  thirteenth  day, 
dating  from  the  capture,  the  turrets  of  Sma  Hassan  came  in 
sight. 

The  first  three  days  the  sisters  were  left  in  undisturbed 
possession  of  their  cabin,  and  their  hearts  began  to  be  ani 
mated  with  hopes  of  a  more  agreeable  fate  than  they  at  first 
anticipated.  They  knew  that  there  was  in  Morocco  a  Spanish 
agency  for  the  redemption  of  prisoners,  and  they  could  not 
doubt  that  their  captors  would  be  willing  to  accept  the  ran 
som  that  would  be  offered,  as  soon  as  their  relatives,  at  Ca 
diz,  should  be  apprized  of  their  situation. 

"But  suppose,"  demanded   Juanita,  "that  we  should  be 


112  THE     BERBER. 

sold  as  slaves,  and  fall  into  the  hands  of  some  one  who  would 
refuse  all  ransom.  I  have  heard  that  it  is  not  always  easy 
to  secure  the  liberty  of  a  Christian  slave  in  Morocco,  even 
with  money." 

"  Ah,  in  that  case,"  replied  Isabel,  "  ours  would  be  a  fate 
worse  than  death." 

"  You  mean,  sister  dear,"  returned  Juanita,  throwing 
her  arms  around  Isabel's  neck,  and  drawing  her  head  to 
her  bosom,  "  You  mean  that  we  shall  be  doomed  to  the 
hareem  ?" 

"  I  do,"  whispered  Isabel,  closing  her  eyes,  as  if  to  shut 
out  some  dreadful  sight,  and  convulsively  clasping  her  sister's 
waist. 

"And  you  think  that  worse  than  death1?"  inquired  Ju 
anita. 

"  Oh,  yes,  worse  than  a  thousand  deaths." 

Juanita  bowed  her  mouth  to  her  sister's  ear,  "  Let  us  die 
then,"  she  whispered  in  a  voice,  calm  in  accent,  but  full  of 
emotion. 

"  Die  ?"  murmured  Isabel. 

"  Yes,  if  it  is  necessary,  die,"  and  the  young  girl  took 
Isabel's  hand,  and  placed  it  beneath  the  folds  of  her  dress  ; 
"  feel  it,"  she  continued  ;  "  it  is  our  father's  dagger ;  it  shall 
serve  for  us  both." 

Isabel  drew  her  hand  from  the  dagger's  hilt,  and  shud 
dered.  Starting  back  she  held  her  sister  off  at  arms  length, 
and  gazed  into  her  face  with  an  expression  of  pure  wonder ; 
"  Child  !  child  ! — but  no,  you  are  no  child  !  You  have  grown 
old  latterly  by  years,  not  days.  How  came  you  to  think  of 
this?" 


A      TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  113 

"  I  saw  it,"  replied  Juanita,  in  Don  Pedro's  last  glance. 
He  was  harsh,  and  hard,  and  unsympathizing ;  but  still  he 
loved  us ;  and  think  you  not  that  he  would  have  driven  his 
dagger  into  our  hearts  sooner  than  have  seen  us  the  inmates 
of  a  Moorish  hareem  ?  It  was  in  his  dying  look  that  I  read 
it,  and  when  I  secured  his  dagger  he  smiled  and  died." 

Isabel  gazed  at  her  sister  in  wondering  silence ;  she  felt 
that  Juanita's  character  was  developing  itself  with  a  rapidity 
and  force,  the  ultimate  degree  of  which  her  own  more  gentle 
nature  could  not  foresee  or  comprehend.  She  was  about  to 
reply,  but  the  door  opened,  and  there  entered  a  black  slave, 
who  announced,  in  a  respectful  tone,  that  the  rais  desired 
permission  to  present  himself  to  his  guests. 

The  moment  had  come  for  an  interview  with  the  dreaded 
Hassan  Herach,  and  muffling  their  faces  in  their  mantillas, 
the  sisters  awaited,  in  trembling  anxiety,  the  entrance  of  the 
redoubtable  rover. 

Amid  the  din  of  the  conflict,  in  the  dim  light  of  the  po- 
lacre's  cabin,  the  sisters  had  received  no  very  definite  impres 
sion  of  the  form  and  figure  of  the  Moorish  captain,  still  less  of 
his  features.  They  heard  a  pleasant  voice  addressing  them, 
as  they  hung  over  the  dead  body  of  Don  Pedro,  and  involun 
tarily  they  obeyed  its  direction  to  muffle  their  faces;  but 
beyond  that,  they  had  no  idea  of  the  person  by  whom  they 
had  been  addressed,  and  little  did  they  think  that  it  had  been 
by  Hassan  Herach  himself. 

The  astonishment  of  the  sisters  may  be  imagined,  when, 
after  a  moment's  delay,  the  black  again  threw  open  the 
cabin-door;  and  there  appeared  a  young  man,  habited  in 


114 


THE     BERBER. 


Moorish  garb,  the  very  image,  apparently,  of  Edward 
Carlyle. 

A  moment's  pause,  and  Juanita  was  about  to  start  forward 
towards  him.  A  slight  movement  of  Isabel  restrained  her. 
The  eye  of  the  elder,  better  practised  in  the  study  of  Edward's 
features,  marked  at  once  the  slight  differences  that  distin 
guished  the  brothers.  The  one  before  her  had  a  peculiarly 
quiet  and  dignified  carriage,  a  graver  and  somewhat  sterner 
expression  of  face.  The  features  were  the  same  in  both ; 
but,  in  the  captain  of  the  corsair,  they  had  a  more  settled  and 
determined  aspect,  more  the  air  of  habitual  command ;  more  of 
thoughtful  self-control. 

Hassan  marked  the  sensation  his  appearance  excited.  Ad 
vancing,  with  a  courteous  smile,  he  addressed  them  in  tones 
that  almost  made  Isabel  doubt  whether  she  had  not  decided 
too  readily  against  the  identity  of  the  speaker  with  her  ad 
mirer  of  Cadiz. 

"  The  senoritas  are  surprised  to  find  in  the  captain  of  this 
galley  so  close  a  resemblance  to  an  old  friend.  If  they  will 
do  me  the  favor  to  listen  I  will  explain  how  it  so  happens." 

With  a  polite  wave  of  the  hand  the  young  Moorish  cap 
tain  requested  the  sisters  to  be  seated,  and  then  deliberately 
assuming  a  position  at  their  feet,  he  began  his  and  his  brother's 
story.  No  expression  of  emotion  betrayed  the  deep  interest 
his  auditors  took  in  the  tale,  until  he  came  to  speak  of  the 
final  escape  of  Edward,  when  Juanita  could  no  longer  contain 
her  delight,  which  she  expressed  by  letting  fall  her  mantilla 
from  her  face,  and  giving  her  sister  a  hearty  embrace. 

"  I  told  you,"  she  exclaimed,  "  that  he  would  come  to  life 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  115 

again.  You  have  no  longer  to  reproach  yourself  with  his 
death.  But  where  is  he  now  1"  she  demanded,  turning  to  the 
rais,  "Shall  we  see  him'?  Is  he  free  ?  Is  he  well1?" 

"  He  is,  I  hope,  in  safety,"  replied  Hassan.  "  For  reasons 
of  prudence  I  sent  him  inland  to  the  city  of  Mequinez. 
Sometimes  you  know  the  nearer  the  rocks  the  farther  from 
danger.  Suspicion  slumbers  soundest  in  the  heart  of  the  camp. 
I  intended  to  follow  him  in  a  few  days,  but  unluckily  an  order 
from  my  capricious  master  compelled  me  to  put  to  sea." 

"And  now,"  continued  the  speaker  after  a  pause,  having 
finished  his  story,  "Will  not  the  senorita  permit  me  a  view 
of  the  charms  so  much  vaunted  by  my  brother  ?" 

There  was  something  in  the  tones  of  the  young  captain's 
voice,  and  in  his  gestures  and  looks,  that  had  strangely  affected 
Isabel's  heart.  Could  it  be  that  the  resemblance  to  Edward 
was  the  cause  of  her  emotion,  and  that  she  had  been  wrong 
in  supposing  herself  so  indifferent  to  him  ?  The  thought  oc 
curred  to  her,  and  kept  her  silent  while  the  captain  of  the 
corsair  was  speaking. 

Isabel,  in  obedience  to  the  request,  threw  back  her  mantilla, 
and  as  she  did  so,  a  blush  mantled  her  cheek  and  restored  for 
a  moment  its  usual  beauty  to  her  face,  blanched  by  the  recent 
scenes  of  fear  and  sorrow.  Stedfastly  for  a  minute  and  more 
did  the  young  man  gaze  into  her  dark  eyes. 

"  Senorita,"  he  exclaimed,  as  her  look  faltered  beneath  his 
steady  glance,  "  I  wonder  not  at  the  temerity  of  Edward.  My 
brother  were  a  coward  indeed  had  he  not  dared  any  danger 
for  such  eyes  as  yours." 

"  Senorita,"  he  continued,  rising  to  his  feet,  "  you  can  con 
fide  in  me — you  can  believe  me " 


116  THE     BERBER. 

"  I  do — I  do,"  impulsively  exclaimed  Isabel,  extending  her 
hand. 

The  Moorish  captain  took  her  hand,  spread  it  in  his  open 
palm,  and  deliberately  looked  at  it  for  a  few  moments. 

"  Yes — you  can  believe  me ;  I  shall  do  all  for  your  safety 
that  I  can  do ;  but  the  issue  is  with  God." 

As  the  captain  left  the  cabin,  he  paused  for  a  moment  in 
the  outer  room,  and  an  expression  of  deep  anxiety  passed 
over  his  features.  He  thought  of  the  last  order  from  the 
soltan,  that  all  prisoners  were  to  be  considered  imperial  pro 
perty,  and  sent  at  once  to  Mequinez. 

"  But  if  this  head  wind  lasts,"  he  muttered  to  himself,  as 
he  went  on  deck,  "  we  shall  have  three  or  four  days  to  think 
of  what  is  best  to  be  done." 

Luckily,  the  head  wind  lasted  not  only  for  three  or  four 
days,  but  for  more  than  a  week,  and  it  was  not,  as  we  have 
said  at  the  beginning  of  the  chapter,  until  the  close  of  the 
thirteenth  day',  that  the  tower  of  Sma  Hassan  came  in  sight. 

'Tis  strange  how  much  under  the  control  of  outward  and 
external  circumstance  is  the  sentiment  of  love.  The  germs  of 
the  passion  may  lie  in  compatibility  of  organization,  of  feeling, 
and  of  taste ;  but  it  requires  the  influence  of  peculiar  external 
circumstances  to  quicken  the  seed  and  to  ripen  the  fruit.  Like 
the  leaden  balls  used  by  the  natural  philosopher,  in  the  fami 
liar  illustration  of  the  principle  of  cohesion,  two  hearts  may 
touch  each  other  with  a  certain  force,  and  yet  remain  for  ever 
distinct — a  little  more  external  force — a  little  more  compres 
sion,  and  almost  instantaneously  a  union,  strong  as  the  fibers 
of  either,  is  complete. 


A     TALE     OF    MOROCCO.  117 

In  a  manner,  Isabel  was  an  illustration  of  this  principle. 
The  attentions  of  Edward  Carlyle  had  gratified  her  vanity, 
and  his  person  and  accomplishments  had  pleased  her  fancy, 
but  had  not  in  reality  interested  her  heart.  She  admired  him  ; 
liked  him  ;  and  loved  him  not.  But,  a  captive  in  a  Moorish 
corsair,  and  brought  under  such  peculiar  circumstances  into 
so  intimate  a  relationship  with  his  brother,  her  heart  was 
forced  within  the  sphere  of  attraction,  and  leaped  up  at  once 
like  steel  to  the  magnet. 

True  there  were  differences  in  the  brothers  that  might  in 
part  explain  the  superior  influence  of  Hassan,  but  there  can 
be  no  question  that  if  Edward  had  stood  in  his  place, 
Isabel  would  have  looked  at  him  with  different  feelings  than 
when  throwing  her  careless  glances  from  the  balcony  at  Cadiz, 
or  from  the  arbors  of  the  Guadalete. 

But  whether  she  would  have  loved  Edward  much  or  little, 
certain  it  is  that  her  heart  acknowledged  at  once  the  presence 
of  its  master  in  the  person  of  his  brother.  A  true  Gaditana 
— impressible,  impulsive,  and  overflowing  with  passion  and 
feeling,  it  required  but  a  few  days  of  close  and  intimate  inter 
course  to  develop  the  whole  loving  capacities  of  her  nature. 
Hers,  however,  was  not  that  fiery  and  energetic  love  that 
Juanita  would  have  felt — a  love  lofty  and  dazzling  as  the 
flames  of  a  volcano — a  love  stimulating,  not  controling  the 
intellect  and  the  will — but  hers  was  a  love  that  pervaded  her 
whole  soul,  heart,  and  brain — a  universal  sentiment  into  which 
were  absorbed  all  feeling,  intellect,  and  volition. 

And  did  the  rover  return  this  passion  ?  There  was  nothing 
in  the  grave  courtesy  with  which  he  treated  the  sisters — 


118  THE     BERBER. 

nothing  in  the  quiet  manner  in  which  he  discoursed  of  the 
events  of  his  life — his  strange  adventures — his  religious  sen 
timents — nothing  in  the  calm  glances  of  his  eye  to  indicate 
that  he  did,  and  yet  Isabel  had  not  a  doubt. 

The  grounds  of  this  confidence  it  would  have  been  diffi 
cult  for  Isabel  to  declare  ;  it  was,  nevertheless,  well-founded. 
From  the  first  interview  the  heart  of  the  young  Moorish  cap 
tain  had  beat  with  a  feeling  that  he  did  not  dare  to  avow 
even  to  himself.  His  newly  found  brother's  image  rose  up 
before  him. 

"  He  said  that  he  loved  her  not ,"  muttered  the  rais 
pacing  the  deck,  "but  it  cannot  be;  he  must  love  her,  and 
I 1  must  steel  my  heart  to  her  charms." 

Still  the  growing  sentiment  refused  to  be  stifled ;  and 
when,  at  the  end  of  a  fortnight,  the  landmarks  of  Salee  came 
into  sight,  and  all  the  difficulties  of  his  position  arising  from 
the  recent  order  of  the  soltan,  that  all  slaves  should  -be  at 
once  sent  to  Mequinez,  rushed  upon  Hassan's  mind,  he  knew 
that  he  loved — madly,  desperately  loved. 

Slowly  the  galley  drew  in  under  the  influence  of  her 
sweeps  to  the  mouth  of  the  Buregreb,  forming  the  harbor  of 
Salee.  Keeping  time  to  a  slow  monotonous  strain  chanted  by 
a  gang  of  Moors  cgi  the  forecastle,  the  slaves  manning  the 
oars  rose  and  fell  back  with  a  steady  and  simultaneous  pull 
on  the  heavy  sweeps.  At  intervals  a  gun  from  the  forecastle 
battery  announced  that  once  again  the  famous  Hassan  Rais 
had  triumphed  over  the  hated  flag  that  was  trailing  at  his 
galley's  stern. 

And   now  the    minarets    and  battlements  of  Salee  and 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  119 

Rabat  are  in  sight.  The  rais  looked  at  them  intently,  and 
an  increasing  shade  of  gloom  came  across  his  face. 

';  If  I  could  contrive  to  smuggle  them  ashore  I  could  keep 
them  concealed  easily  enough,"  he  muttered  to  himself.  But 
that  will  be  impossible ;  we  shall  be  boarded,  perhaps,  out 
side  the  bar  by  the  captain  of  the  port,  then  all  will  be 
known,  and  I  shall  have  to  surrender  them  to  the  kaid  of 
the  slaves." 

Hassan  started  to  his  feet,  while  trembling  on  his  lips  was 
an  order  to  put  about  and  sail  away  from  the  dreaded  port. 
But  whither  ?  He  could  go  to  no  Christian  land  ;  and  although 
master  of  the  galley,  he  knew  that  he  was  watched ;  the 
Maroquiens  having  lately  adopted  the  practice  of  the  Alge- 
rines,  who,  always  jealous  of  the  captains  of  their  corsairs, 
especially  if  they  were  able  men  and  favorites  with  their 
crews,  were  accustomed  to  send  aboard  an  aga  or  kaid  of 
the  soldiers  to  overlook  and  report  all  their  doings.  Be 
sides  this  officer,  Hassan  knew  that  he  had  an  enemy  in  the 
Bash  Sota  Rais,  or  first  lieutenant,whose  unnecessary  cruelty  to 
captives  he  had  had  more  than  one  occasion  to  repress.  For  a 
moment  the  desperate  rais  contemplated  the  design  of  liberat 
ing  the  slaves  at  the  oars,  and  the  captives  of  the  polacre,  mas 
tering  the  Moors,  turning  them  adrift  in  the  small  boats,  and 
then  setting  sail  for  some  Christian  land.  But  a  new  and  more 
feasible  plan  crossed  his  mind.  The  gloomy  countenance  of 
the  rais  lighted  up  with  an  expression  of  hope. 

"  I  can  do  as  much  as  that  at  any  rate,"  he  exclaimed  in  a 
low  voice.  "  I  will  defy  the  kkefa  of  the  kaid  of  the  slaves — 
I  will  assert  my  right  to  obey  the  soltan's  order  in  person,  and 


120  THE     BERBER. 

to  conduct  all  my  captives  to  the  court  myself.  That  will  give 
us  time  and  at  least  opportunity.  Who  knows  what  may  hap 
pen  by  the  way  ?  Oh  !  if  I  can  communicate  with  Casbin  Subah, 
the  Berber,  in  time,  he  could  aid  me — he  could  save  us.  Oh  ! 
holy  and  true  prophet  of  God — be  you  he  of  Mecca  or  he 
of  Nazareth — send  the  Chief  of  the  Beni  Mozarg  to  our  help." 

It  will  be  recollected  that  the  religious  education  of  the 
young  rais  had  been  sadly  neglected;  and  that  to  him,  there 
was  no  impropriety  in  his  equivocally  ascribed  prayer.  But, 
right  or  wrong,  it  had  an  inspiriting  effect,  and  he  superin 
tended  the  delicate  operation  of  taking  the  galley  in  through 
the  breakers  that  beat  upon  the  bar  of  the  Buregreb,  with  his 
usual  alacrity  and  skill. 

The  arrival  of  the  famous  rover,  of  course,  -created  quite  a 
sensation ;  and  the  inhabitants  turned  out  en  masse  from  both 
cities,  to  see  the  landing  of  the  Christian  dogs.  Great  was  the 
disappointment  and  even  indignation  among  the  officials  of  the 
town  when  the  rais  announced  his  determination  *to  allow  no 
one  to  board  the  galley.  The  redoubtable  Hassan  Herache, 
always  a  favorite  with  the  populace,  was  now  the  hero  of  the 
hour.  He  knew  that  if  he  chose  to  take  such  a  responsibility 
his  crew  would  stand  by  him ;  and,  although  there  was  great 
danger  in  view  of  the  capricious  cruelty  of  the  soltan,  there 
was  almost  equal  danger,  provided  he  gained  the  favor  of  the 
tyrant,  to  any  one  who  should  oppose  him.  Despite,  how 
ever,  his  commands  to  admit  no  one,  the  galley  no  sooner 
struck  the  sand  than  a  big,  burly  negro — his  face  strongly 
marked  by  the  smallpox — clambered  up  by  the  channels  over 
the  bulwarks.  With  a  loud  voice,  he  announced  himself 


A    TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  121 

as  Hammond  ben  Slowek,  the  newly  appointed  kaid  of  the 
slaves. 

Hassan  advanced  with  a  courteous  salute  to  the  new  kaid, 
but  his  manner  rapidly  changed  to  an  expression  of  contempt, 
as  he  listened  to  the  blustering  tones  of  the  negro. 

"  Why  is  it,"  demanded  the  kaid,  "  that  the  polacre  has 
not  arrived  with  you  ?" 

"  Ask  the  whirlwind,"  replied  Hassan,  "  it  no  doubt  will 
give  you  a  fitting  answer." 

"  It  has  the  larger  portion  of  the  captives  on  board,  you 
say  :  are  there  any  women  among  them  1" 

"  There  are  women  among  them,"  shortly  replied  Hassan. 

"  When  will  they  arrive  ?" 

"I  know  not." 

"  Well,  we  must  wait  for  them,  I  suppose ;  but  the  captives 
you  have  here  in  your  galley,  you  will  surrender  them  to  my 
keeping.  Here  is  the  order  of  our  lord  the  soltan  to  that 
effect, — all  Christians  are  to  be  sent  up  to  Mequinez. 

"  I  shall  escort  the  slaves  that  I  have  captured,  to  Mequinez 
myself,"  sternly  replied  Hassan.  "  I  shall  obey  the  order  of 
the  soltan — to  whom  may  God  give  a  happy  life — but  I  shall 
permit  no  interference  with  my  rights.  Go,  then,  in  peace, 
and  trouble  not  thy  soul  about  the  security  of  my  captives. 
What  my  hands  have  won  they  can  hold. 

"  Deliver  me  the  women  then,"  exclaimed  the  kaid  in  an 
insolent  tone.  "  The  soltan — may  God  preserve  his  life — has 
given  me  all  the  women  who  may  be  brought  into  port  during 
this  month  as  the  pay  of  my  office." 

The  blood  forsook  Hassn's  lips ;  he  clenched  liis  teeth, 
6 


122  THE    BERBER. 

but  his  habitual  self-command  for  a  moment  restrained  him, 
and  he  made  no  reply. 

"Ha!  I  know  that  you  have  Christian  women  here,"  ex 
claimed  the  kaid,  pointing  to  the  cabin ;  "  you  must,  at  least, 
deliver  them  to  me ;  they  are  my  property  and  I  will  have 
them :  keep  the  men,  and  we  will  settle  the  question  about 
them  at  Mequinez,  but  surrender  the  women — they  are  mine." 

Hassan  could  control  his  rage  no  longer. 

"  To  the  ground  instantly,  or  I  will  throw  you  over  the 
bulwarks,"  he  shouted,  advancing  upon  the  kaid. 

The  negro  started  back,  and  drew  his  sword,  with  a 
menacing  air,  but  he  had  hardly  time  to  extend  it  when  it 
was  crossed  by  the  blade  of  the  excited  rais.  A  single  clash, 
and  the  weapon  of  the  kaid  flew  far  out  upon  the  sand.  The 
rover  dropped  his  sword  to  the  deck  and  seized  the  kaid. 

"  On  your  head  be  it !"  shouted  the  enraged  negro. 

"  On  my  head  be  it !"  replied  Hassan ;  and  lifting  the 
struggling  kaid  bodily,  he  dashed  him  over  the  bulwarks 
with  a  force  that  would  have  left  but  little  life  in  him  had 
it  not  been  that  the  sand  was  wet  and  soft  from  the 
receding  tide. 


A    TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  123 


CHAPTER    X. 


The  aspect  of  nature  in  Morocco  is  peculiar  and  striking. 
There  are  comparatively  but  few  signs  of  cultivation,  and  yet 
the  country  has  an  old  look,  that  gives  it  a  very  different 
appearance  from  any  of  the  thinly  peopled  districts  of  the 
New  World.  The  towns,  which  are  mainly  inhabited  bv  the 
true  Moors,  many  of  them  the  descendants  of  the  expatriated 
Saracens  of  Andalusia,  mingled  with  Jews,  negro  slaves,  and 
Christian  renegados,  who,  in  the  present  day,  mostly  consist 
of  escaped  convicts  and  deserters  from  the  Spanish  garrison 
of  Ceuta,  are  few  and  wide  apart.  There  are  no  villages,  but 
in  their  place  are  the  douahs  or  groups  of  low  brown  tents 
inhabited  by  the  Arabs,  or  rather  by  a  mixed  race  of  Arabs 
and  Africans.  These  at  a  little  distance  can  scarcely  be  dis 
tinguished  from  clumps  of  palmetto  bushes  which  in  many 
parts  dot  the  slopes  of  the  hills.  In  the  great  plains,  like  that 
in  which  stands  the  city  of  Morocco,  the  country  at  certain  sea 
sons  is  strikingly  beautiful.  Nothing  can  surpass  the  rich  pro 
fusion  of  the  affluent  vegetation.  Luxuriant  fields  of  wheat  and 
barley  wave  in  the  breeze,  laden  with  the  odors  of  a  thousand 


124  THE     BERBER. 

flowering  plants,  chiefly  of  the  bulbous  kind.  Herds  of  cattle 
and  horses  may  be  seen  trampling  the  tall  grass  or  reposing 
under  the  shade  of  innumerable  palms.  But  in  the  dry  season 
all  this  beauty  vanishes,  and  an  air  of  desolation  and  decay 
pervades  the  wide  horizon.  Even  when  vegetation  is  most 
flourishing  the  traveller  is  struck  with  the  vast  disproportion 
between  the  spontaneous  productions  of  nature  and  the  returns 
of  direct  agricultural  appliances.  The  Arabs,  who  are  a  mixed 
race,  composed  partly  of  the  original  Saracenic  invaders,  and 
of  the  crowds  of  emigrants  from  Arabia  who  followed  the  con 
quest,  partly  of  the  original  inhabitants  of  the  plains,  and 
partly  of  Lybian  tribes,  who  have  poured  in  from  the  borders 
of  the  Saharah,  are  too  idle  and  ignorant  to  develope  a  tithe 
of  the  natural  capabilities  of  the  soil.  The  despotism  of  the 
government — the  exactions  and  oppressions  of  bashaws  and 
inferior  agents,  have  wrought  their  inevitable  and  legitimate 
effects,  the  demoralization  and  depopulation  of  the  country. 
It  may  be  questioned  whether  the  whole  empire  contains  five 
millions  of  people.  The  great  plain  of  Morocco  alone  could, 
if  properly  cultivated,  easily  support  twice  that  number. 

In  the  northern  part  of  the  empire,  from  Fez  and  Mequi- 
nez  to  the  straits  of  Gibraltar,  the  aspect  of  the  country  is 
still  more  desolate.  The  entire  absence  of  houses,  except 
occasionally  the  white-washed  sanctorea  of  celebrated  saints ; 
of  fences,  bridges  or  roads ;  the  hills  low  and  brown,  or  co 
vered  with  scraggy  pines  and  dwarf  oaks ;  marshes  over 
grown  with  willows;  and  plains  cut  up  by  water-courses, 
and  covered  with  wild  mustard,  furze,  palmetto  bushes  and 
thistles — present  a  scene  or  scenes  at  once  disagreeable  and 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  125 

pleasing,  saddening  and  inspiriting  ;  and,  to  extend  the  appa 
rent  paradox,  ugly  and  unfit  for  a  picture,  yet  delightfully 
picturesque. 

As  it  is  now,  so  was  the  country  in  the  days  of  Muley 
Ismael ;  and  so  it  was  when,  one  morning,  a  few  days  after  the 
arrival  of  the  corsair  at  Salee,  a  large  party  might  have  been 
seen  skirting  the  small  forest  of  oak  that  stretches  from  the 
plain  of  Marmora  up  to  the  spurs  of  the  Atlas.  It  consisted 
of  about  a  hundred  Moorish  horsemen,  and  fifty  or  sixty 
Christian  prisoners,  chained  two  and  two,  on  foot.  In  the  rear 
rode  two  female  figures  closely  muffled  to  their  eyes  in  haicks 
of  white-woollen.  They  were  mounted  upon  mules,  and  were 
accompanied  by  a  young  man,  riding  a  fine  gray  barb ;  be 
hind  these  came  a  black  followed  by  a  dozen  Moors,  with 
firelocks  carried  across  the  front  of  the  saddle.  These  last 
were  a  few  of  the  most  devoted  followers  of  the  commander 
of  the  party,  in  whom  the  reader  of  course  at  once  recognizes 
Hassan  Herach. 

The  party  had  been  obliged  to  make  a  detour  from  the 
direct  road  to  Mequinez  for  fear  of  the  Ait  Amore,  who,  re 
port  said,  had  defeated  a  body  of  troops  that  the  soltan  had 
sent  against  them,  and  had  even  issued  from  their  strong 
holds  in  the  hills,  and  were  ravaging  the  country  west  of 
the  capital. 

Although  anxious  to  communicate  with,  and  obtain  as- 
sistance  from  his  friend,  the  Berber  chieftain,  the  young  rais 
thought  it  best  to  conform  to  the  unanimous  advice  of  his 
own  officers,  and  of  the  guard  furnished  him  by  the  bashaw 
of  Salee,  and  alter  his  route  to  the  capital.  In  the  first  place 


126  THE     BERBER. 

he  felt  the  necessity  of  extreme  caution  to  allay  suspicion 
of  his  motives  and  objects ;  and,  in  the  second  place,  he  did 
not  like  to  risk  an  encounter  with  the  mountaineers,  unless 
they  should  happen  to  be  under  the  immediate  command  of 
their  chief.  Hassan  judged  it  most  prudent  to  yield  to  the 
suggestions  of  a  detour ;  but  to  despatch  a  message  by  a 
Berber  of  a  tribe  with  whom  the  Moors  were  at  peace,  to 
acquaint  Casban  Subah  with  his  movements,  and  to  request 
his  assistance. 

The  road,  or  rather  bridle  track,  leaving  the  shelter  of  the 
cork  woods,  now  entered  upon  a  small  open  plain.  As  they 
came  out,  so  as  to  have  a  clear  horizon,  the  first  file  halted  at 
the  sight  of  a  dozen  horse  who  came  galloping  over  the  hills 
from  a  quarter  indicating  that  they  too  had  come,  although 
by  a  different  road,  from  Salee.  In  a  few  moments  it  was  seen 
that  they  were  Moors,  although  at  the  first  glance  the  rais 
had  indulged  a  hope  that  it  might  be  the  advance  guard  of 
Casban  Subah,  and  his  countenance  fell  when  he  recognized  in 
the  leader  of  the  approaching  troop  the  kaid  of  the  slaves.  The 
kaid,  however,  seemed  to  have  no  hostile  intentions.  Saluting 
the  young  rais  as  if  nothing  to  mar  their  harmony  had  occur 
red  between  them,  he  passed  on  and  mingled  with  the  soldiers 
of  the  escort. 

"  Son  of  a  burnt  grandfather,"  muttered  Hassan,  "  your 
politeness  shall  not  impose  upon  me.  You  have  some  scheme 
of  revenge  in  your  head,  but  I  shall  watch  you." 

Eagerly  the  rais  scanned  the  horizon,  but  there  was  no 
sign  of  the  Berber  chief.  "  He  ought  to  meet  us  here  if  any 
where,"  he  whispered  to  Isabel,  "  God  grant  that  he  received 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  127 

my  message.  If  he  comes  we  will  fly  to  the  hills,  and  then  we 
may  bid  defiance  to  this  kaid  and  even  to  the  soltan  himself." 

"  God  grant  that  it  may  be  as  you  wish,"  replied  Isa 
bel,  "  but  what  chance  of  escape  from  the  hills'?  Shall  we  not 
be  shut  up  in  the  mountains  for  life?  I  have  heard  that  no 
Christian  captive  ever  obtains  his  freedom  except  through  the 
agency  of  the  Fathers  of  the  Redemption." 

"  Never  fear  senorita,  if  we  can  secure  the  protection  of 
the  chief  of  the  Beni  Mozarg,  we  shall  have  time  to  look 
about  us,  and  trust  me  some  opportunity  will  offer  by  which 
you  may  leave  the  country,  notwithstanding  the  jealous  watch 
fulness  of  the  Moors.  But  to  fly,  we  must  keep  the  wings  of 
desire  feathered  with  the  plumes  of  freedom,  and  then  the 
higher  the  start  the  more  easy  it  will  be  to  sweep  over  the 
dangerous  lowlands." 

"Who  and  what  is  this  mountain  chief?"  suddenly  ex 
claimed  Juanita,  as  the  rais  paused  after  his  metaphorical 
flight,  "  Is  he  young  or  old,  savage  or  civilized  1  I  have  been 
told  that  the  people  of  Mount  Atlas  are  much  more  barbarous 
than  the  Moors." 

"  Whoever  told  you  so,  senorita,"  replied  Hassan,  "  does 
them  great  injustice.  True,  there  are  very  different  degrees 
of  civilization  prevailing  among  the  numerous  tribes  and 
families  into  which  they  are  divided.  The  Beni  Mozarg,  a 
branch  of  the  great  tribe  of  Ait  Amore,  are  as  far  removed 
from  barbarism  as  the  inhabitants  of  any  district  of  your  own 
Spain.  Much  of  this  is  due  to  their  position ;  within  a  day's 
ride  of  Mequinez,  easily  accessible,  and  yet  easily  defensible, 
they  have  enjoyed  many  advantages  over  their  brethren  who 

6 


128  THE     BERBER. 

have  maintained  their  freedom  and  ignorance  in  the  deeper 
recesses  of  the  mountains.  Much  is  also  due  to  their  late 
amekran  or  chief,  and  to  his  son  the  present  amekran  H'rushe, 
or  as  he  is  called  by  Moors,  Casbin  ibn  Subah  el  Tedla,  or 
Casbin  the  Lion  of  the  Atlas,  and  well  does  he  deserve  the 
title.  There  is  not  a  Berber  chief  so  dreaded  and  hated  by 
the  soltan." 

"  Is  he  young  or  old  f  demanded  Juanita. 

"In  years  he  is  but  a  youth,"  replied  the  rais,  "but  in 
wisdom,  prudence,  and  fame,  he  is  as  old  as  the  oldest.  He 
has  been  in  your  country  too,  senorita,  and  speaks  Spanish 
well.  Look  out  for  your  heart  when  you  encounter  him.  I 
see  that  you 'are  beginning  to  feel  an  interest  in  him  even 
now,"  continued  Hassan,  his  composed  features  relaxing  into 
a  pleasant  smile.  "  Have  a  care,  senorita,  the  Berber  has  that 
in  his  eyes  that  is  said  to  frighten  the  boldest  lion — and  what 
frightens  lions  is  very  apt  to  soften  women's  hearts." 

"  Fear  not  for  me,  senor,  if  we  are  going  into  the  moun 
tains  there  will  be,  I  suspect,  much  more  danger  to  apprehend 
from  the  lion  than  from  his  master.  But  tell  me,  is  your  hero 
as  handsome  as  he  is  brave  and  accomplished  V 

"  His  face  is  perfect — his  form  faultless." 

"  Ha,  I  tremble — what  say  you,  Isabel,  can  we  trust  our 
selves  in  the  presence  of  such  a  paragon  ]" 

"  You  must  take  care  of  yourself,"  replied  Isabel,  raising 
her  eyes  to  the  face  of  the  rais,  while  a  slight  blush  qualified 
the  smile  with  which  she  spoke.  "  As  for  me,  I  apprehend  no 
danger  were  he  twice  the  hero  he  appears  to  be." 

"  But  he  is  as  gentle  and  kind  hearted  as  he  is  handsome 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  129 

I  suppose,"  said  Juanita,  "  all  heroes  are  so.  Oh,  I  wish  he 
would  come.  I  don't  feel  the  least  afraid  of  him.  Santa 
Maria  I  know  will  protect  me ;  and  besides,  he  is  your  friend 
you  say." 

"  We  were  companions  in  boyhood  when  I  dwelt  among 
the  Berbers  of  Tedla.  I  took  him  in  my  galley  to  Algiers, 
whence  he  embarked  for  Sicily  and  Spain  on  a  visit  to  the 
monuments  of  his  Berber  and  Vandal  ancestors,  who  once 
ruled  as  conquerors  over  those  fair  lands.  Since  then  there 
have  but  few  messages  passed  between  us,  but  my  heart 
would  be  as  lead  did  I  think  that  the  rust  of  absence  had  eaten 
through  the  strong  links  in  the  chain  of  our  friendship." 

Hassan  again  stretched  himself  up  in  his  stirrups  and  strain 
ed  his  eyes  over  the  plain,  but  still  no  sign  of  the  Berber.  The 
rais  began  to  entertain  the  conviction  that  his  message  had 
miscarried,  or  that  it  had  found  the  Berber  not  in  a  condition 
to  afford  him  assistance,  in  which  case  there  would  be  no 
alternative  to  moving  on  with  his  captives  to  the  city. 

As  the  party  proceeded  they  passed  a  douah  where  were 
assembled  the  inhabitants  of  several  other  villages,  all  of 
whom  were  actively  engaged  in  celebrating  the  marriage  of 
the  sheik's  son.  A  party  of  young  men  were  busily  employed 
in  loading  and  firing  three  or  four  old  muskets  ;  others  were 
industriously  extracting  as  much  noise  as  possible,  by  the  aid  of 
crooked  sticks,  from  a  couple  of  drums.  Guitars,  tamborines, 
and  reed  flutes,  added  to  the  harmony ;  while  a  noisy  group  were 
engaged  in  playing  a  game  of  ball,  the  skill  of  which  consisted 
in  striking  the  ball  with  the  sole  of  the  foot,  and  knocking  it 
perpendicularly  into  the  air. 


130  THE     BERBER. 

Upon  the  appearance  of  the  Christians  all  amusements 
were  suspended,  and  men,  women,  and  children  rushed  to  see 
the  dogs  of  unbelievers.  Curses  and  imprecations,  and  even 
sticks  and  stones  were  showered  upon  them  without  mercy, 
and  it  was  only  by  quickening  their  pace,  and  hurrying  them 
beyond  the  reach  of  the  infuriated  mob,  that  the  guards 
could  save  their  prisoners  from  serious  maltreatment. 

Towards  night  the  sanctuary  of  the  renowned  Muley 
Idris  came  in  sight,  and  a  city  named  after  the  same  saint, 
which  stands  on  the  slope  of  Zarhon,  one  of  the  offshoots  of 
the  Atlas.  The  travelers  were  going  on  to  encamp  under  the 
walls  of  this  city,  but  were  prevented  by  the  people  in 
charge  of  the  sanctuary,  who  would  not  permit  the  pollu 
tion  of  so  sacred  a  place  by  the  nearer  approach  of  the 
Christians. 

The  camp  was  at  length  selected  about  a  league  from  the 
city,  on  ground  covered  with  magnificent  ruins.  Hundreds  of 
marble  columns,  numerous  square  blocks  of  stone,  and  two 
porticos  thirty  feet  high,  attesting  the  size  and  splendor  of 
what  the  natives  call  the  Kassar  Farawan,  or  the  castle  of 
Pharaoh — a  structure  probably  of  the  days  when  Mauratania 
was  a  Roman  province. 

A  small  tent  had  been  provided  for  the  sisters — an  atten 
tion  that  excited  a  good  deal  of  remark  among  the  followers 
of  the  rais,  and  not  a  little  curiosity  to  see  the  beauty  that 
could  induce  a  pious  Mohammedan  to  treat  with  so  much 
consideration  the  women  of  the  Kaffirs.  The  anxiety  of 
Hassan  prevented  sleep.  All  night  he  kept  on  the  look-out 
for  some  sign  of  the  Berber.  It  was  now  four  hours'  journey 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  131 

to  Mequinez,  and  unless  the  chieftain  appeared  before  noon  of 
the  coming  day,  it  would  be  necessary  to  enter  the  city,  sur 
render  his  male  prisoners,  and  trust  to  the  caprices  of  the 
soltan  for  permission  to  retain  the  guardianship  of  the  sisters. 

"  If  it  were  not  for  this  black  scoundrel,  the  kaid  of  the 
slaves,  all  would  go  right,"  thought  Hassan,  as  he  coiled  him 
self  beside  a  fallen  column  in  the  attitude  of  sleep,  but  with 
eyes  and  ears  open  for  the  slightest  movement. 

At  the  first  glimmering  of  dawn  the  camp  was  aroused ; 
the  slaves  were  marshalled  in  travelling  order ;  the  tent  of 
the  sisters  was  struck,  and  the  mules  brought  up  and  saddled. 
Juanita  was  first  helped  to  her  seat  by  the  rais,  and  he  was 
turning  to  perform  the  same  office  for  her  sister,  when  sud 
denly  a  tremendous  uproar  arose  at  the  head  of  the  column 

shouts,  blows,  and  imprecations,  mingled  with  loud  calls  for 

Hassan  Herach !  arrested  the  movements  of  the  rais. 

"  Rest  here  for  a  moment,  and  you,  Selim,  look  well  to 
their  safety,"  exclaimed  Hassan,  "  while  I  see  what  this  dis 
turbance  is  about." 

;c  Hassan  darted  off  in  the  direction  of  the  hubbub  ;  and 
the  few  Moors  standing  by,  with  the  exception  of  Selim,  fol 
lowed  his  example. 

At  this  instant  a  horse,  with  his  rider,  turned  an  angle 
of  the  ruined  masonry,  and  leaping  a  prostrate  column,  was 
brought  crouching  instantaneously  to  a  stand,  by  the  side  of 
the  mule  on  whicn  was  seated  the  younger  sister.  So  sudden 
was  his  appearance,  that  it  seemed  as  if  he  had  leaped  down 
from  the  top  of  the  lofty  portico. 

Throwing  his  arm  round  the  waist   of  Juanita,  the  rider 


132  THE     BERBER. 

whirled  her  from  her  seat  and  placed  her  before  him.  Se- 
lim  made  a  spring  at  the  horse's  head;  but  dropping  the 
reins,  and  driving  the  sharp  corners  of  his  stirrup  irons  into 
the  side  of  his  barb,  the  horseman  dealt  the  black  a  blow 
in  the  face  with  his  fist  that  felled  him  to  the  ground,  and 
then  shooting  by  him,  like  an  arrow,  disappeared  in  the 
deep  gloom  of  the  early  dawn,  amid  the  labyrinth  of  ruins 
and  bushes. 

A  shriek  from   Isabel  brought  Hassan  back  to  her  side. 

"  Juanita !  gone !"  he  exclaimed,  "  where  is  the  kaid  of 
the  slaves'?"  and,  like  a  flash,  the  whole  plot  burst  upon 
him.  The  hubbub  in  the  camp  had  been  created  by  the  fol 
lowers  of  the  kaid  to  attract  his  attention,  and  allow  their 
master  to  seize  one  of  the  sisters.  The  plan  was  partly 
one  of  revenge  for  the  insult  he  had  received ;  and  partly 
one  of  intense  desire  to  possess  a  captive  beautiful  enough  to 
deserve  the  care  evinced  by  Hassan. 

"  Seize  and  bind  the  dogs !"  shouted  Hassan  to  the 
guards ;  "  cut  them  down,  if  they  resist ;  on  my  head  be 
the  blame." 

The  followers  of  the  kaid,  who  were  preparing  to  mount 
their  horses,  were  at  once  seized  and  bound.  The  prompti 
tude  with  which  the  energetic  order  was  obeyed,  took  them 
somewhat  by  surprise ;  there  was  no  resistance,  and  not  one 
succeeded  in  getting  away  after  his  master. 

Giving  strict  orders  that  no  one  should  stir  from  the 
camp,  and  leaving  Isabel,  trembling  and  speechless,  in  charge 
of  Selim  and  a  confidential  officer  of  the  corsair,  the  rais 
hurriedly  drew  off  with  the  mounted  men  belonging  to  his 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  133 

own  crew.  His  orders  were  short,  and  to  the  purpose  :  "  One 
of  you  follow  me — the  rest  divide  into  parties  of  two 
each — take  different  directions,  spare  not  the  spur,  and  cut 
down  the  black  scoundrel  without  hesitation.  Away  with 
you !  a  thousand  metcals  of  gold  to  him  who  brings  back 
the  maiden." 

It  was  rapidly  growing  lighter,  but  although  there  was  a 
wide  view  over  the  plain  of  Muley  Idris,  there  was  no  kaid 
to  be  seen.  The  pursuing  parties  spurred  off  in  different  direc 
tions,  the  rais  choosing  that  in  which  the  kaid  had  been  seen 
to  depart.  He  had  not  gone  far,  however,  before  he  per 
ceived  that  from  the  nature  of  the  ground,  cut  up  as  it  was 
into  ravines  and  water-courses,  the  chance  of  overhauling  the 
kaid  before  reaching  the  wooded  slopes  of  the  hills  was  a 
poor  one. 

"  It  would  need  a  hundred  men,"  he  muttered  through 
his  clenched  teeth.  "  Son  of  Ebliss !  may  I  be  doubly  cursed 
of  Mohammed  and  Christ  but  you  shall  rue  this  day  !" 

The  sun  was  now  above  the  horizon,  and  eagerly  the  young 
rais  strained  his  eyes,  practised  in  the  long  vision  of  the 
sailor  over  the  wide  expanse  that,  as  he  rose  the  numerous 
hillocks  of  the  plain,  was  exposed  to  view.  He  could  see  the 
ruins  of  Kassar  Farawan  and  the  rnovincr  fi«mres  of  his 

O  O 

Moorish  guards  and  their  prisoners,  and  far  in  the  distance 
there  were  horsemen  scouring  the  country  at  full  speed. 
Several  parties  of  Arabs,  men  and  women,  bearing  burdens  on 
their  heads,  and  driving  before  them  their  little  donkies  laden 
with  articles  for  the  market  of  Muley  Idris  were  encountered, 
but  none  of  them  had  seen  the  object  of  his  search. 


134  THE     BERBER. 

A  slight  clue  was  afforded  by  a  man  who  was  plowing  by 
means  of  a  crooked  wooden  stick,  to  which  were  harnessed 
a  couple  of  cows,  by  ropes  fastened  to  their  horns.  The  man 
was  entirely  naked.  A  woman  in  nearly  an  equal  state  of 
nudity,  (permitting  a  view,  common  in  Barbary,  of  several 
crosses  tattooed  upon  the  skin,)  followed  with  a  basket  of  barley 
which  she  distributed  in  the  furrows,  or  rather  scratches  made 

by  the  primitive  plow. 

To  the  anxious  questionings  of  Hassan  he  replied,  that  he 
had  seen  a  mounted  djin  flit  by  him  in  the  gray  of  the  morn 
ing,  bearing  a  large  burthen  before  him ;  but  that  if  he  it 
was  that  his  questioner  was  in  search  of,  he  must  have  had 
time  to  reach  the  cork  woods  on  the  slope  of  the  hill — 
where  pursuit,  even  with  a  thousand  men,  would  be  hope 
less. 


A     TALE     OF    MOROCCO.  135 


CHAPTER    XI. 


LIKE  all  of  his  countrymen  the  kaid  was  a  bold  rider. 
His  steed  was  one  of  the  best  from  the  soltan's  stables,  at 
Maraskh.  He  had  also  the  advantage  of  a  good  start,  and  an 
intimate  knowledge  of  the  ground.  Keeping  to  the  labyrinth 
of  water-courses  made  by  the  winter  tributaries  of  the  Or- 
dom,  he  directed  his  flight  for  the  hills,  where  he  expected 
to  be  joined  by  his  followers ;  and  then  to  make  his  way 
into  Mequinez  in  time  to  forestall  the  rais  with  the  jealous 
soltan. 

For  a  long  time,  Juanita  lay  insensible  in  his  arms,  and 
when  she  did  recover  she  found  herself  so  firmly  grasped,  and 
so  tightly  muffled  in  her  haick,  that  at  first  she  was  incapable 
of  motion.  But  with  returning  consciousness  returned  a  good 
portion  of  her  natural  courage  and  resolution.  She  addressed 
the  kaid  in  Spanish ;  but,  unlike  the  town  Moors,  he  could 
speak  nothing  but  Arabic,  in  which  language  he  sternly  en 
joined  silence,  and  fiercely  spurred  on.  Juanita  understood 
the  injunction;  and  at  once  she  shouted,  at  the  top  of  her 
lungs,  as  they  dashed  by  two  or  three  black  tents,  in  front  of 
which  were  seated  some  women  engaged  in  making  butter,  by 
shaking  and  thumping  goat  skin  bags  filled  with  milk.  A 


136  THE     BERBER. 

muttered  curse,  and  a  blow  on  the  mouth,  were  followed  by  a 
tighter  grasp  of  her  person,  and  away  the  gallant  barb  bound 
ed  beyond  the  reach  of  aid  from  the  douah. 

Juanita  bethought  herself  of  her  dagger ;  and  with  right 
good  will  would  she  have  used  it  could  she  have  drawn  it 
from  beneath  the  folds  of  her  dress. 

The  kaid,  having  reached  the  ascending  ground,  forced  his 
horse,  for  a  short  distance,  up  the  dry  bed  of  a  mountain 
torrent;  and  then  wheeling  him  on  to  an  eminence  covered 
with  tall  palmetto  bushes,  paused  for  a  moment  to  look 
back.  He  saw  the  horsemen  of  the  rais  scouring  the  plain ; 
he  saw  the  rais  himself,  and  knew  from  his  movements  that 
he  was  completely  at  fault,  and  shaking  his  bridle-hand  con 
temptuously,  and  muttering  an  Arabic  imprecation,  he  turned 
and  spurred  among  the  winding  glades  of  the  ilex  and  cork 
forest. 

For  full  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  kaid  kept  on  at  full 
speed ;  when  suddenly  he  checked  his  steed  by  the  banks  of 
a  small  stream,  and  swinging  Juanita  to  the  ground,  dis 
mounted,  and  secured  his  horse. 

"Come,"  he  exclaimed,  "let  us  see  what  my  prize  is 
worth  ?"  and,  advancing,  he  seized  her  haick,  and  with  no  gen 
tle  grasp,  tore  it  away  from  her  face. 

Juanita's  limbs  were  stiffened  by  the  compression  and 
jolting  of  her  short  but  desperate  ride ;  and  her  spirit  froze 
within  her  as  she  caught  a  full  sight  of  the  negro's  ugly  and 
malignant  visage,  seamed  as  it  was  with  the  small-pox,  and 
marked  by  the  play  of  the  most  sensual  passions.  She 
tottered  backward,  and  would  have  fallen,  had  she  not  caught 
for  support  at  the  trunk  of  a  tree. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  137 

The  kaid,  on  his  part,  was  not  less  astonished.  He  was  a 
great  admirer  of  Christian  beauty  ;  but  he  had  formed  no 
idea  of  such  loveliness ;  and  he  paused,  for  a  moment,  in 
delighted  contemplation  of  something  so  new,  and  so  Afresh,  so 
different  from  any  thing  that  he  had  before  seen. 

"  There  is  no  heaven  and  no  houris  in  the  next  world," 
he  muttered,  "  for  the  Christians — may  the  curse  of  the  Pro 
phet  rest  on  them  forever — and  so  God  sends  them  good- 
looking  women  in  this.  No  wonder  the  rais — may  my  dag 
ger  some  day,  blush  with  his  heart's  blood — no  wonder  he 
wished  to  pluck  this  flower  of  the  Kaffirs  for  himself.  Can 
the  other  be  equal  to  her  ]  By  the  beard  of  the  Prophet  I 
will  have  her  too." 

The  kaid  again  advanced  toward  Juanita.  There  was 
something  in  the  gleam  of  his  eye  that  roused  to  desperation 
the  indomitable  spirit  of  the  young  girl,  and  starting  to  her 
feet,  she  drew  the  dagger  from  beneath  her  dress,  and  made 
a  furious  blow  at  his  breast.  The  will  was  good,  but  her  arm 
wanted  force ;  and,  springing  back,  the  astonished  and  en 
raged  negro  escaped  with  but  a  slight  wound.  Again  he  ad 
vanced  upon  her ;  but  Juanita,  by  flourishing  the  dagger,  kept 
him  at  bay. 

The  contest  could  not  have  lasted  long,  as  the  strength  of 
the  young  girl  was  beginning  to  fail  her,  and  the  kaid  was  al 
ready  looking  around  for  a  stick  with  which  to  beat  down 
her  guard,  when,  suddenly,  a  new  comer  appeared  upon  the 
scene — so  suddenly  and  so  noiselessly,  that  he  seemed  to 
Juanita's  eyes  to  have  arisen  from  the  ground. 

He  was  a  middle  sized  figure,  clad  in  a  coarse  gray  djel- 


138  THE    BERBER. 

labeah,  the  hood  of  which  was  drawn  so  far  over  his  head  as 
to  completely  conceal  his  features.  He  was  mounted  upon 
a  tall  black  barb.  A  long  musket  rested  across  his  lap,  and 
at  his  saddle-bow  hung  an  old-fashioned  Arabic  war-club,  with 
a  steel  head,  a  most  formidable  weapon  when  wielded  in 
the  close  melee  or  when  hurled  with  unerring  precision  in  the 
chase. 

Quietly  he  sat  upon  his  motionless  steed  and  looked  at 
the  two  before  him.  The  instant  Juanita's  eyes  caught  sight 
of  him  she  dropped  her  dagger  and  shrieked  to  him  to  aid 
her,  and  then  the  impossibility  of  making  known  her  story  in 
Arabic  flashed  upon  her;  her  lips  became  blanched  and  silent, 
and  her  heart  sank  in  despair.  The  next  instant  the  recol 
lection  of  the  corsair's  name  came  to  her  mind,  and  she  start 
ed  forward  repeating  the  words  rais,  Hassan,  Herach,  and 
pointing  in  the  direction  of  the  ruins  of  Kassin  Farawan. 

"Speak  Spanish  senorita,"  exclaimed  the  horseman,  "I 
understand  it.  Tell  me  how  it  is  that  you  are  here,  and  why 
you  use  the  name  of  the  famous  rover  of  Salee." 

It  would  be  impossible  to  describe  the  sudden  revulsion 
of  feeling,  from  despair  to  hope,  that  came  over  the  maiden's 
heart  as  the  full  mellow  tones  of  the  stranger's  voice  fell  upon 
her  ear.  Rapidly  she  ran  over  the  leading  points  of  her 
story. 

"  Enough,  senorita,"  exclaimed  the  horseman  with  a  courte 
ous  wave  of  his  hand.  "  Calm  yourself  now.  You  can  tell 
me  more  when  I  have  sent  this  hound  to  his  kennel." 

Deliberately  turning  to  the  kaid,  who  had  hardly  had  time 
to  make  up  his  mind  as  to  how  he  should  receive  any  inter- 


A     TALE     OF    MOROCCO.  139 

ference  in  the  affair,  the  stranger  pointed  to  his  horse  and  stern 
ly  ordered  him  to  mount. 

"  And  who  are  you,"  demanded  the  negro,  "  who  dares  to 
order  Hammed  ben  Slowick,  chief  kaid  of  the  slaves.  On 
your  head  be  any  interference  between  me  and  my  slave." 

Without  a  word  the  stranger  lightly  sprang  to  the  ground, 
leaving  the  gun  and  battle  club  suspended  at  the  saddle  bow. 
The  kaid  drew  his  sword,  but  the  stranger,  unheeding  the 
action,  advanced  with  a  peculiarly  elastic  and  vigorous  step 
until  within  three  or  four  feet,  when  he  stopped,  drew  back 
the  -hood  of  his  djellabeah  a  little,  and  spoke  a  few  words 
in  a  low  tone. 

The  kaid's  face  grew  almost  white  with  terror.  His  lips 
quivered,  and  his  eye-balls  started  from  his  head,  as  with 
trembling  steps  he  retreated  backward  until  he  reached  his 
horse.  Once  fairly  in  the  saddle,  he  hesitated  for  a  moment. 
The  stranger  waved  his  hand  impatiently,  and  with  a  groan  of 
mingled  rage  and  fear  the  kaid  gave  the  rein  to  his  horse  and 
set  off  at  full  speed. 

The  noise  of  his  horse's  hoofs  died  away  among  the  echos 
of  the  forest.  The  stranger  threw  himself  upon  the  ground 
and  lay  for  a  few  moments  with  his  ear  pressed  to  the  earth. 

"  Right,"  he  exclaimed,  rising,  "  he  has  taken  the  path  for 
Mequinez.  He  will  trouble  us  no  more." 

Advancing  to  Juanita,  he  took  her  hand,  and  quietly  lead 
ing  her  to  a  bank  of  turf  bordering  the  rushing  stream,  re 
quested  her  to  be  seated.  "  Compose  yourself,  fair  maiden," 
said  the  stranger,  addressing  her  with  a  tone  and  air  decid 
edly  chivalresque.  "  Have  no  further  fear.  You  are  here  as 


140  THE     BERBER. 

safe  as  you  would  be  in  groves  of  the  Guadalete.  You  can 
trust  me." 

"  Oh,  I  do  !"  exclaimed  Juanita,  earnestly  ;  "  most  fully, 
most  perfectly." 

The  stranger  seemed  somewhat  amused  with  her  impul 
sive  and  energetic  reply.  "  And  yet,  senorita,  you  know  no 
thing  of  me — you  have  hardly  seen  my  features " 

"But  I  have  heard  your  voice,"  interrupted  the  young 
girl,  "  and  I  cannot  be  mistaken ;  oh  !  I  am  sure  that  no 
cruelty  or  treachery  can  lurk  in  such  a  voice." 

"  'Tis  the  Spanish  words,  fair  maiden — 'tis  the  sound  of 
your  native  language,  that  perhaps  deceives  you — you  forget 
that  I  am  a  Moor." 

The  stranger  threw  back  upon  his  shoulders  the  deep  hood 
of  his  djellabeah,  and  exposed  a  head  and  face  that  might  have 
served  for  a  model  of  an  Antinous  in  bronze.  The  features 
were  perfectly  regular  and  very  youthful ;  a  wide  smooth 
forehead  partially  concealed  by  the  folds  of  the  turban ;  a 
nose  aquiline  and  exquisitely  formed ;  and  lips  short,  curved 
and  moderately  full,  were  well  set  off  by  jetty  brows,  mous 
tache  and  beard.  It  was  the  eye,  however,  that  was  the  most 
striking  feature.  It  was  not  black,  but  a  blue  so  deep  and 
clear  as  to  have  the  same  effect,  except  when,  in  some  lights, 
the  bluish  tint  flashed  out  in  incongruous  contrast  to  the  deep 
bronze  of  the  complexion. 

It  was  this  complexion  that  proved  in  Juanita's  eyes,  as 
she  contemplated  for  a  moment  the  features  of  the  young  man, 
the  only  drawback  to  his  beauty :  not  that  it  was  too  dark, 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  141 

but  it  was  so  unnatural,  so  untransparent,  so  much  like  a 
painted  complexion. 

The  stranger  hesitated  for  a  moment,  and  then  a  twinkle 
of  boyish  glee  played  in  the  depths  of  his  blue  eye.  Without 
a  word  he  raised  his  hand,  and  seizing  his  cap  and  turban, 
threw  them  upon  the  ground.  This  movement,  which  would 
hare  served  to  reveal  the  closely  cropped  head  of  a  Moor, 
liberated  a  profusion  of  yellowish  auburn  hair  that  fell  in 
clustering  curls  over  his  brow  and  adown  his  neck. 

The  incongruity  of  light  hair  with  a  black  beard  and  skin 
was  complete,  and  gave  to  the  young  man  a  singular  and 
somewhat  comical  appearance  in  the  eyes  of  the  puzzled 
Juanita. 

The  stranger  watched  her  bewildered  look  for  a  moment, 
and  then  burst  into  a  low  mirthful  laugh,  while  his  large  eyes 
sparkled  with  the  spirit  of  fun.  There  was  something  so 
genial,  so  good  humored,  and  so  boyish  in  his  tones,  that 
Juanita  was  compelled  to  join  him,  although  she  would  have 
found  it  difficult  to  tell  what  they  were  laughing  at. 

"  The  senorita  hardly  knows  what  to  think  of  such  an  odd 
looking  being,"  said  the  stranger,  "  but  if  she  will  rest  here 
for  a  moment  I  will  endeavor  to  make  myself  look  a  little 
less  like  a  mamarracho,  or  an  enmascarado.  I  am  growing  too 
anxious  for  your  approving  glances,  senorita,  to  bate  any  of 
my  natural  advantages." 

So  saying,  he  rose,  and  advancing  to  the  brink  of  the 
stream,  sprang  lightly  down  the  bank  to  the  water.  Here  he 
produced  from  a  pouch  at  his  girdle  a  piece  of  the  argillaceous 
saponaceous  earth  used  as  a  cosmetic  by  the  ladies  of  Morocco, 


142  THE     BERBER. 

and  proceeded  to  wash  away  the  temporary  coloring  materials 
that  darkened  his  skin  and  beard. 

It  would  have  been  difficult  for  Juanita,  had  she  been  much 
more  practised  in  such  matters  than  she  was,  to  have  analyzed 
the  feelings  with  which  she  awaited  the  return  of  her  singular 
companion.  Hope,  confidence,  curiosity,  wonder,  exercised 
her  mind,  and  then  came  fear — fear  that  she  was  dreaming — 
that  her  protector  had  deserted  her,  and  that  the  kaid  would 
return. 

Her  apprehensions,  however,  endured  but  for  a  moment, 
for  seizing  the  projecting  arm  of  a  dwarf  oak,  the  stranger 
leaped,  with  a  bound  light  as  that  of  a  gazelle  to  the  top,  of  the 
bank,  and  stood  before  her. 

His  appearance  was  now  much  more  youthful — certainly 
not  over  twenty-two  or  twenty-three  years.  His  beard,  full 
and  curling,  was  of  the  color  of  his  hair,  while  his  skin  was 
clear  and  ruddy,  although  somewhat  darkened  by  exposure 
to  the  sun. 

He  threw  himself  upon  the  ground  at  the  feet  of  Ju 
anita. 

tl  And  what  does  the  senorita  think  now,"  he  demanded, 
"Am  I  a  Moor?" 

"  I  know  not  what  to  think,"  replied  Juanita.  "  You  cannot 
be  a  Moor,  and  you  certainly  are  not  a  Spaniard,  although  you 
speak  the  language  so  fluently." 

"  And  yet,  senorita,  you  can  trust  me  !  You,  so  young,  so 
lovely,  lovely  even  beyond  the  fairest  creature  of  my  dreams, 
are  not  afraid  of  me  1  a  stranger — alone,  in  this  forest !  Know 
you  not  senorita  that  it  was  not  unfrequently  the  custom  for 


A     TALE    OF     MOROCCO.  143 

distressed  damsels  to  reward  the  knights  who  succoured 
them." 

There  was  a  slight  tone  of  mockery  in  his  voice  that 
brought  the  tear  to  Juanita's  eye.  Her  lips  trembled  with 
vexation  as  she  replied, 

"  Recreant  knights,  false  to  honor  and  to  beauty,  only,  could 
exact  rewards  for  service  in  time  of  need  to  my  sex.  No  ! 
I  can  trust  you,  but  if  I  could  not  I  am  not  afraid  of  you. 
You  forget  that  I  have  my  dagger." 

"A  poor  guard,  senorita,  to  those  ripe  lips  of  yours," 
laughed  the  stranger.  "  Why  in  a  moment  more,  if  I  had 
not  arrived,  the  kaid  would  have  forced  the  weapon  out  of 
your  hand,  and  you  would  have  been  at  the  mercy  of  an  in 
furiated  beast." 

"  True,"  replied  Juanita,  "  because,  in  that  case,  the  blind 
instinct  was  to  strike  at  the  attacking  animal ;  but  if  you —  " 

"  Well,  what  then  1  Suppose  I  stood  in  the  kaid's  place," 
demanded  the  stranger,  and  a  slight  sneer  curled  his  curved 
upper  lip. 

"  Then — then  I  would  strike  the  dagger  into  my  own  heart," 
exclaimed  Juanita  passionately,  and  overcome  by  her  vexation, 
she  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears. 

"  Buono !  buono  !  senorita,"  said  the  stranger,  clapping 
his  hands,  "I  like  the  distinction — I  appreciate  the  compli 
ment  !  But,"  he  continued  in  the  gentlest  tones,  "  why  these 
tears  1  I  meant  not  to  offend  you.  I  believe  you  to  be  as 
pure  and  good  as  you  are  lovely.  Think  equally  well  of  me, 
I  will  deserve  your  good  opinion.  But  you  must  needs  know 
more  of  me.  Hast  ever  heard  of  the  Berbers." 


144  THE     BERBER. 

'•  The  mountaineers  of  the  Atlas  ?" 

"  The  same — Berbers,  or  Brebbers,  they  are  called  by  the 
Moors  and  Arabs  ;  but  among  themselves  they  know  not  the 
name.  Their  true  title  is  Amazerg,  the  noble,  or  Amaergt, 
the  free."  Among  the  hills  I  am  an  Amazerg — and,  as  he 
spoke  the  stranger's  eye  gleamed  with  a  flash  of  pride — "  here, 
I  am  a  Berber." 

"And  the  amekran  of  the  Beni  Mozarg,"  said  Jua- 
nita. 

The  young  man  started  with  an  expression  of  surprize ; 
and  then  bowing,  he  replied,  "  Your  wit  flies  as  straight  and 
as  true  to  my  title  as  the  glances  of  your  eyes  do  to  my 
heart.  The  amekranelarsh  of  the  Beni  Mozarg,  is  at  your 
feet,  senorita." 

Juanita's  eyes  fell  beneath  the  steady  look  of  admiration 
that  rested  on  her  face  j  and  a  slight  blush  was  her  only  reply 
to  the  compliment. 

"And  is  this  a  mark  of  the  Berber  blood?"  she  said, 
after  a  pause,  slightly  touching  the  masses  of  golden  curls 
that  fell  aside  his  cheek ;  "  methought  they  were  a  dark-haired 
race." 

"There  are  differences  in  the  tribes,"  replied  the  Ber 
ber  ;  "  our  people  have  never  been  conquered ;  but  they 
have  more  or  less  felt  the  influence  of  the  tides  of  conquest 
that  have,  in  different  ages,  swept  over  the  low  lands  between 
the  foot  of  our  mountains  and  the  Mediterranean.  First 
came  the  Carthagenians,  then  the  Romans,  and  then  the  Van 
dals.  With  these  latter,  my  own  tribe,  the  Beni  Mozarg,  had 
intimate  relations.  A  chieftain  of  the  Mozarg  married  a 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  145 

daughter  of  Genseric  and  'tis  the  blood  of  that  conqueror  that 
makes  my  skin  lighter  than  my  kindred  of  the  tribes.  But 
you  seem  interested  in  what  I  say  of  my  people,  and  well 
you  may ;  I  doubt  not  that  Berber  blood  flows  in  your 
veins." 

"  In  mine,"  exclaimed  Juanita,  "  how  can  that  be  ?" 
"You  are  an  Andalusian,  and  you  doubtless  have  heard 
how  the  Saracens  once  conquered  the  greater  part  of  Spain,  and 
how  the  traces  of  the  Arabic  race  can  be  perceived  in  the 
present  inhabitants  of  the  southern  half  of  the  peninsula. 
But  it  is  all  false,  'twas  the  Berbers  who  conquered  Spain. 
'Twas  the  Berbers,  in  the  gallant  bands  of  Tarik  Ibn  Zeyed 
and  his  master  Mirza  Ibin  Nasseyr,  who  overthrew  the  gotliic 
monarchy  in  Spain.  'Twas  the  Berbers  who  composed  the 
vast  array  that,  under  Yusef  Ibn  Tashfir,  defeated  the  hosts  of 
Alfonzo  on  the  field  of  Zalaca.  'Twas  the  Berbers  who,  under 
the  great  Yakoob  Almanzor,  routed  the  king  of  Castile  on  the 
plains  of  Alarcos,  and  who  swept  triumphant  through  the 
country  to  the  hills  of  Asturias ;  and  it  was  the  Berbers  who 
followed  Mohammed  Ibn  Abdallah  by  hundreds  of  thousands 
to  the  fatal  field  of  Las  Narvas." 

The  eye  of  the  Berber  flashed,  and  his  countenance  glowed 
with  a  stern  and  lofty  expression  that  it  would  in  moments 
of  repose  seem  almost  impossible  for  his  features  to  assume. 
Suddenly  his  expression  changed,  and  he  uttered  again  his 
peculiar  boyish  laugh.  "  Pardon  me,  senorita,"  he  said,  taking 
her  hand.  "  I  am  getting  patriotic  and  heroic  when  I  ought 
to  be  gallant  and  sentimental,  but  it  is  a  mood  I  am  apt  to 
fall  into." 

7 


146  THE    BERBER. 

"  It  suits  you,"  returned  Juanita  smiling,  "  and  I  like  it ; 
although,  as  a  true  Spaniard,  when  you  boast  of  the  conquest 
of  my  country  by  the  Berbers,  I  might  ask  who  it  was  that 
beat  them  back  to  their  own  mountains  1  I  might  ask  how  it 
is  that  they  now  suffer  the  dominion  of  the  Moor  ?" 

"  The  dominion  of  the  Moor  !  Never.  In  the  hills  we  are 
as  free  as  we  have  ever  been  since  our  tribes  first  came  from 
the  east,  long  before  the  Phoenician  stranded  his  barque  upon 
the  shore  of  Carthage.  But  in  the  smaller  hills  and  on  the 
plains,  where  our  people  have  mixed  with  other  populations, 
we  give  a  nominal  submission.  Even  that,  however,  is  wholly 
due  to  the  deadly  feuds  of  our  tribes ;  and  mark  me,  senorita, 
the  day  will  come  when  the  Berbers  will  know  the  power  of 
union,  and  then " 

The  young  man  paused ;  and  again,  relapsing  into  his 
boyish  tone,  he  exclaimed  gaily,  "  But,  senorita,  this  is  idle 
talk,  when  we  should  be  thinking  of  a  fitting  termination  to 
your  adventure.  You  have  the  choice  of  two  courses,  either 
to  go  with  me  to  my  kassar,  where  you  will  be  in  perfect 
safety,  or  to  rejoin  your  sister  and  the  rais  Herach. 

"  Oh  let  us  go  to  my  sister,"  exclaimed  Isabel. 

"  And  if  you  go  to  her,  you  will  have  to  go  with  her  to 
Mequinez.  There  you  will  be  exposed  to  dangers  which  I 
doubt  whether  the  rais  will  have  power  to  protect  you  from. 
The  kaid  will  be  there.  I  easily  frightened  him  away,  be 
cause  I  have  the  reputation  of  being  in  league  with  the  evil 
one,  and  the  Moors  are  terribly  superstitious  ;  but  I  am 
afraid  that  he  will  not  so  easily  give  you  up  within  the 
walls  of  the  city." 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  147 

Juanita  paused  and  looked  for  a  moment  on  the  ground. 
As  she  raised  her  eyes  she  caught  the  inquiring  glances  of 
the  Berber  fixed  upon  her,  and  noticed  something  of  the  same 
mocking  expression  that  had  once  before  attracted  her  at 
tention. 

"  I  will  go  to  my  sister,"  impetuously  exclaimed  Juanita ; 
"  her  fate  shall  be  mine." 

"But  you  forget,  senorita;  her  fate  may  be  to  be  the 
wife  of  Hassan ;  and  from  what  you  have  told  me,  I  gather 
that  it  would  not  much  displease  her.  Your  fate  may  be  to 
be  the  slave  of  the  kaid." 

"I  will  go  to  my  sister,"  exclaimed  Juanita,  clutching 
the  hilt  of  the  dagger. 

"  'Tis  well,  senorita.  Here,  Boroon !  Boroon !" — and 
the  horse,  had  not  stirred  from  the  spot  where  his  mas 
ter  had  left  him,  came  trotting  up,  like  a  dog,  at  the  call. 
"Tis  well,  senorita;  but  I  have  travelled  in  your  country, 
and  I  saw  but  few  damsels  who,  in  your  case,  would  have  de 
cided  against  my  kassar.  Come,  senorita,  a  short  ride  and 

then " 

The  sentence  remained  unfinished.  Bending  from  his  sad 
dle,  the  young  man  seized  Juanita  around  the  waist,  and  with 
singular  ease  and  dexterity  raised  her  from  the  ground  and 
placed  her  on  the  croupe  of  the  horse  behind  him. 

"  Hold  fast  by  the  folds  of  my  sash,"  he  exclaimed,  "  and 
fear  not.  Boroon  would  hardly  shake  a  feather  from  him  ;" 
and  drawing  his  hood  far  over  his  face,  he  gave  the  word  to 
his  steed,  which  at  once  stretched  out  in  a  long  skimming  pace 
that  soon  carried  Juanita  clear  -of  the  forest  by  a  wide  open 


148  THE     BERBER. 

path  running  almost  at  right  angles  to  the  one  by  which  she 
had  entered. 

A  half  hour's  gallop  through  the  open  country,  during 
which  no  words  had  been  spoken,  except  a  few  questions  and 
answers  as  to  the  brother  of  the  rais,  Edward  Carlyle,  when 
suddenly  the  Berber  drew  reins  upon  the  brow  of  an  eminence 
that  commanded  a  view  of  the  wide  plain. 

"  Do  you  see  that  troop  of  horsemen,"  he  said,  indicating 
the  object  he  mentioned  with  his  hand,  "that  is  the  cavalcade 
of  Hassan  Herach.  They  will  come  directly  beneath  this  hill. 
Keep  yourself  out  of  sight  until  they  are  near  enough  to  make 
sure  that  your  sister  and  the  rais  are  present.  It  will  not  suit 
my  purposes  to  be  seen.  I  will  watch  you  from  yonder  cliff 
until  you  join  them.  Tell  the  rais  that  I  received  his  message 
not  three  hours  since,  but  that  I  knew  not  the  assistance 
ho  required.  My  people  have  retreated  to  the  hills.  It  would 
take  three  or  four  days  to  collect  force  enough  to  overpower 
so  large  an  escort  as  accompanies  the  captives  of  the  rais.  Tell 
him,  however,  to  be  of  good  heart,  and  that  I  may  be  of  service 
to  him  even  yet.  Say  to  him  that  I  will  meet  him  in  Mequinez. 
And  now,  senorita,  adieu.  Forget  me  not,  and  be  sure  that  I 
shall  remember  you." 

The  Berber  threw  his  arm  around  her  waist,  and  lifting  her 
as  if  she  had  been  a  child,  whirled  her  gently  round  in  front 
of  him,  and  held  her  for  a  moment  suspended  in  the  air.  He 
leaned  forward  and  imprinted  a  kiss  upon  her  lips.  "  We  shall 
meet  again,"  he  murmured — "Adieu  !"  and  then  lowering  her 
to  the  ground,  struck  his  spurs  into  his  horse  and  was  off  like 
a  bird  on  the  wing. 


A    TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  149 

Poor  Juanita !  for  some  minutes  she  stood  be\rildered — 
stupified — gazing  after  the  flying  steed  and  its  strange  rider. 
It  seemed  a  dream,  yet  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  the  reality. 
The  glowing  kiss  of  the  stranger  had  passed  the  portals  of  her 
pouting  lips,  and  burned  like  a  coal  at  her  heart. 


150  -rHB      BERBER. 


CHAPTER  XII 


THE  first,  greatest,  and  most  essential  requisite  in  writing 
a  novel,  is,  that  the  writer  should  have  a  story  to  tell,  and 
that  he  should  tell  it.  Long-drawn  descriptions  of  character 
or  scenery,  fine-spun  samples  of  sentiment,  historical  disquisi 
tions  or  philosophical  essays,  no  writer  of  a  novel  has  any 
title  to  inflict  upon  his  readers.  But  while  maintaining  this 
view  of  the  author's  privileges,  and  the  reader's  rights  to  a 
degree  far  beyond  what  the  common  practices  of  the  day  re 
quire,  it  must  nevertheless  be  admitted,  that  at  times  the 
current  of  the  story  may  be  arrested,  for  a  few  moments,  for 
explanations,  and  remarks  essential  to  the  full  comprehension 
of  plot,  character,  or  situation.  If  this  is  true  under  ordinary 
circumstances,  it  is  peculiarly  so  in  the  present  case,  when  the 
course  of  the  story  brings  upon  the  scene  a  specimen  of  a 
people  so  little  known  to  most  readers  as  the  inhabitants  of 
Mount  Atlas ;  and  no  further  apology  will  be  perhaps  neces 
sary  for  devoting  a  page  or  two  to  concentrating  the  few 
rays  of  light  that  have  been  collected  by  D'Avazac,  Graberg, 
Venture,  Hodgson,  Delaporte,  and  other  learned  philologists 
and  ethnographers. 

The  whole   range  of  the  Atlas  is  inhabited   by  a   most 


A    TALE     OF    MOROCCO.  151 

ancient  people — the  Numidians  and  Mauritaniaus,  genus  in- 
suparabile  bello  of  the  Roman  writers.  In  Algiers  they  are 
now  familiar  to  the  public  under  the  name  of  the  Kabyles 
— literally,  "  the  tribes."  In  the  northern  part  of  Morocco,  in 
the  kingdom  of  Fez,  they  are  known  as  Berbers,  Brebbers, 
or  Barabra.  In  the  southern  and  western  valleys  of  the  At 
las,  below  the  city  of  Morocco,  and  particularly  in  the  pro 
vinces  of  Hhahha,  Soos,  and  Guzzula,  they  are  called  Shel- 
looh. 

The  Kabyles,  the  Berbers,  and  the  Shellooh,  speak  distinct 
dialects,  so  much  so,  that  it  is  said  they  cannot  readily 
hold  communication  with  each  other ;  but  it  is  now  pretty 
well  ascertained  that  these  dialects  are  radically  the  same 
language  ;  and  that  to  this  same  old  widely  diffused  Berber  lan 
guage  belongs  the  Terguah,  or  the  dialect  of  the  Tuarycks, 
the  great  nomadic  tribes  of  the  desert  of  Sahara — the  Mo- 
zabeeah,  or  idiom  of  the  Bern*  Mozab,  on  the  northern  fringe 
of  the  desert,  and  the  Sergoo,  spoken  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Timbuctoo. 

The  origin  of  the  Berbers  is  involved  in  the  greatest  ob 
scurity.  According  to  their  own  traditions,  and  the  assertions 
of  Arabic  historians,  they  come  from  Canaan.  One  account 
represents  their  ancestors  as  a  colony  of  Philistines  who  fled 
to  Africa  upon  the  death  of  Goliath.  Another  makes  them  the 
descendants  of  the  Amalekites  and  Canaanites  who  were  driven 
out  by  Joshua.  This  is  the  opinion  of  Procopius,  who  accom 
panied  Belisarius  in  his  African  wars,  and  who  asserts  that  he 
himself  saw  two  columns  of  marble  at  Tangier  bearin<r  the 
inscription,  "We  are  the  Canaanites  who  fled  before  Joshua 


152  THE    BERBER. 

the  son  of  Nun,  that  notorious  robber."  The  testimony  of 
Procopius,  at  least,  serves  to  show  that  the  tradition  of  the 
Canaanitish  origin  of  the  Berber  is  as  old  as  the  fifth  century, 
and  renders  it  probable  that  a  Philistine  emigration  did  take 
place  in  the  time  of  Joshua,  although  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  the  country  was  then  inhabited  by  tribes  of  a  similar  race, 
coming  by  successive  emigrations  long  before  from  the  East. 
The  traditions  of  the  Shellooh  favor  this  supposition.  They 
consider  themselves  the  most  ancient  people,  and  represent 
themselves  as  descended  from  Mazeg,  son  of  Canaan,  while 
their  northern  neighbors  are  Philistines,  descended  from  Cas- 
luhim,  son  of  Misraim.  The  probabilities  are  that  the  great 
aboriginal  white  race,  the  Mazigh,  was  made  up  by  repeated 
emigrations  from  the  coasts  of  the  Levant  at  a  date  long 
anterior  to  the  earliest  historical  period,  in  the  same  way 
that  the  Arabic  elements  of  the  lowlands  of  Northern  Barbary 
are  due  to  emigrations  long  anterior  to  the  invasion  of  the 
country  by  the  converts  of  Mohammed.  One  of  the  earliest 
of  these  Arabian  eruptions  was  that  of  Melek  Afriki,  who 
came  at  the  head  of  five  tribes,  the  Senhagia,  Massmudah, 
Zeneta,  Hawarah,  and  Gumerah,  the  quinquegentani  of  the 
Romans.  These  Arabian  emigrants,  probably,  mixed  readily 
with  the  Canaanitish  inhabitants  of  the  plains,  as  succeeding 
emigrants  have  done,  and  this  mixed  race  constitute  what  is 
known  as  the  Moorish  or  Arabic  population,  entirely  distinct 
from  the  aboriginal  Berber. 

Like  their  brethren  the  Kabyles,  and  the  Shelloohs,  the 
Berbers  are  divided  into  tribes,  between  whom  interminable 
feuds  exist,  some  of  which  date  back  as  far  as  the  era  of  Mo- 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  153 

hammed. .  An  almost  continued  state  of  hostility  is  the 
consequence,  and  though  capable  of  patching  up  a  peace  and 
uniting  for  resistance  to  an  invader,  the  instant  the  external 
pressure  is  removed  the  tribes  resolve  themselves  into  their 
varying  elements,  and  the  old  feuds  break  out.  It  has  ever 
been  the  policy  of  the  emperors  of  Morocco  to  encourage  these 
feuds,  and  to  fan  the  flames  of  family  hate,  as  by  that  means 
they  can  secure  a  nominal  authority  over  a  few  of  the  tribes, 
with,  in  some  cases,  a  slight  tribute  from  the  most  accessible. 
Many  families  of  the  Berbers,  however,  live  in  entire  inde 
pendence  under  their  amekrans  or  amgars,  and  frequently  a 
tribe  or  tribes  wage  desperate  war  with  the  Moors.  Could 
the  Berbers  drop  their  hereditary  family  quarrels,  and  unite 
for  any  length  of  time,  the  Moorish  dominion  in  Morocco 
would  soon  be  at  an  end — the  Berbers  and  Shelloohs  number 
ing  full  one  half  of  the  population,  and  being  by  far  the  most 
energetic  and  warlike  race. 

The  Berbers  are  a  remarkably  well  proportioned  race,  ro 
bust,  active,  lively,  and  bold,  with  light  complexions,  many  of 
them  having  hair  as  light  as  the  people  of  Northern  Europe. 
Morgan,  who  resided  forty  years  in  Barbary,  in  his  curious 
and  quaintly  written  history  of  Algiers,  says,  "  I  have  never 
met  with  any  North  Britain,  Dane,  or  any  other,  more  carroty 
and  freckled  than  I  have  known  whole  families  of  these 
mountaineers  and  others  who  have  owned  their  descent  from 
thence;  and  among  the  Arabs  I  never  could  light  on  one 
whose  hair  was  not  either  jet  black,  or  at  least  dark  brown. 
These  are  generally  swarthy,  as  are  their  Asiatic  kindred,  yet 
some  of  them  have  skins  tolerable  clear — nay,  many  of  them 


154  TEEE     BERBER. 

far  exceeding  abundance  of  Southern  Europeans.  Again,  as  I 
said,  many  of  the  natural  Africans,  by  mixing  with  the  black 
slaves,  together  with  being  in  a  manner  always  exposed  to  the 
scorching  sunbeams,  have  negro's  features  and  a  very  dusky 
hue.  But  what  numbers  of  natural  Africans  have  I  not  seen, 
particularly  females,  who,  for  well  featured  countenances,  fair 
curling  locks,  and  wholesome  ruddy  looks,  might  vie  with,  and 
even  be  envied  by  the  proudest  European  belles  who  are  hourly 
persecuted  by  crowds  of  sighing  languishing  admirers."  The 
Shelloohs  are  darker,  although  neither  of  them  have  any  thing 
in  their  personal  appearance  resembling  the  so-called  Berbers, 
or  Brabra  of  Nubia.  A  peculiarly  sinister  and  cruel  expression 
of  the  eye,  it  has  been  said,  is  a  characteristic.  This  is  perhaps 
true  of  the  Kabyles,  but  it  is  not  so  general  with  the  Berbers, 
among  whom  the  physiognomy  of  different  tribes  varies  con 
siderably,  owing  somewhat,  it  may  be,  to  causes  at  work  an 
terior  to  the  historic  period,  but  most  probably  to  a  greater 
or  less  contamination  of  some  of  the  tribes  by  Punic,  Roman, 
Arabic,  Vandalic  and  Gothic  blood. 

But  whether  the  Berbers  have  the  sinister  look  of  their 
Algerine  brethren  or  not,  certain  it  is  that  the  instinct  of 
cruelty  is  fully  developed  in  many  of  them  in  the  present 
day,  and  particularly  among  that  portion  of  them  who  are 
nearest  to  European  civilization.  The  Reefians,  or  inhabitants 
of  the  great  spur  of  the  Atlas  that  stretches  down  to  the  Straits 
of  Gibraltar,  have  as  bad  a  reputation  as  any  people  in  Barbary. 
The  most  inhospitable  and  dangerous  place  for  shipwrecked 
Christians  on  the  whole  coast  of  Africa  is  beyond  doubt  within 
the  Straits,  almost  under  the  guns  of  Gibraltar,  at  the  foot  of 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  155 

Abyla,  now  Djebel  Moussa  or  Ape's  Hill,  one  of  the  famous 
pillars  of  Hercules.  May  it  not  be  that  the  Reefians  owe  their 
reputation  for  a  degree  of  inhumanity,  cupidity,  and  faith 
lessness,  that  does  not  belong  to  the  inland  tribes,  to  their 
closer  intercourse  with  the  Carthagenians,  whose  great  city  of 
Tingis,  fabled  to  have  been  surrounded  by  walls  of  brass,  lay 
but  a  few  miles  from  their  hills. 

Among  the  Berbers,  in  the  present  day,  the  Mohammedan 
religion  prevails,  mixed  up,  however,  with  many  old  peculiar 
notions  and  observances,  some  of  which  unquestionably  date 
their  origin  from  the  time  when  the  whole  of  Northern  Africa 
was  nominally  Christian.  Nominally,  we  say,  for  there  is  good 
reason  to  believe  that  a  large  proportion  of  the  population, 
especially  in  the  mountains,  were  as  thorough-going  Chris 
tian  haters,  in  the  times  of  St.  Augustine  as  they  are  in 
the  present  day.  A  few  tribes  are  yet  strongly  Pagan, 
and  it  is  more  than  probable  that  a  few  others  still  hold 
Christian  doctrine,  though  by  this  time,  perhaps,  it  could 
scarcely  be  recognized  as  such,  in  its  impure  and  adulterat 
ed  forms. 

In  general  the  Berbers  are  not  good  horsemen ;  but 
some  of  the  tribes  have  horses  and  riders  that  excel  the  best 
among  the  Moors.  They  are  very  expert  marksmen,  and  very 
fond  of  their  weapons,  and  of  military  games  and  exercises. 
High  up  in  the  mountains  they  frequently  live  in  natural  ca 
verns,  or  in  artificial  caves  dug  out  in  the  faces  of  the  cliffs ; 
but  in  the  valleys,  and  on  the  plateaus,  they  have  villages 
constructed  of  wood  and  stone,  thatched  with  straw,  and 
loop-holed  for  purposes  of  defence. 


156  THE     BERBER. 

Immense  herds  of  cattle  and  flocks  of  sheep  afford  a 
means  of  subsistence ;  and  they  are  also  abundantly  supplied 
with  asses  and  mules.  Manufactures  are,  of  course,  in  no  very 
flourishing  condition  ;  but  they  are  not  far  behind  those  of  the 
Moors.  They  can  spin,  weave,  smelt  iron,  and  make  their  own 
arms ;  and,  if  not  equal  to  the  town  Moors  in  all  departments 
of  industry,  are  far  before  the  Arabs  or  tent-dwelling  Moors 
of  the  plains. 

Among  the  Berbers  there  live  a  great  many  Jews,  whose 
condition  is  infinitely  better  than  that  of  their  brethren  among 
the  Moors.  A  relation,  like  that  of  patron  and  client,  exists 
— each  Jew  has  a  Berber  patron  who  is  bound  to  protect 
him  from  insult  and  oppression,  even  at  the  expense  of  his 
own  life.  The  Jew,  in  the  towns,  is  insulted,  oppressed, 
robbed  with  impunity,  but  among  the  Berbers  he  lives  in 
security  of  life  and  property,  and  on  terms  of  perfect  social 
equality.  These  Jews  are  looked  upon  as  heretics  by  the  Moor 
ish  Jews,  who  stigmatize  them  as  Philistines.  A  good  un 
derstanding,  however,  exists,  and  it  is  no  uncommon  thing 
for  the  Philistines  to  mingle  freely  with  the  town  Jews  in  the 
pursuits  of  trade. 

Such  are  the  Berbers  of  the  Atlas,  in  our  day ;  and  such 
in  general,  have  they  ever  been.  In  the  case  of  tribes,  like 
the  Beni  Mozarg,  brought  more  intimately  in  contact  with 
the  hosts  of  the  different  invaders  that  have  swept  along 
the  southern  shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  there  has  been  un 
doubtedly  a  higher  stage  of  civilization  than  at  present.  The 
ferocious  bigotry  of  Mohammedanism,  and  the  jealous  cruelty 
of  an  ignorant  despotism  have,  year  by  year,  and  day  by  day, 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  157 

exerted  an  increasing  energy  in  demoralizing  and  barbarizing 
the  Moors ;  and  it  may  well  be  conceived  that  an  influence  of 
a  similar  kind  must  have  swept  out  of  existence  some  of  the 
habits,  tastes,  and  ideas  of  the  Berbers ;  but,  in  the  main,  as 
they  are  now,  so  were  they  then. 

Except  the  change  in  the  artificial  landmarks  of  the  coun 
try,  the  greater  infusion  of  the  Arabic  element  into  the  lan 
guage  of  the  lowlands — the  substitution  of  the  prayers  of 
El  Islam  for  the  rites  of  the  pagan — the  adoption  of  fire-arms 
in  place  of  bows  and  slings — and  the  use  of  saddles — the  old 
Numidians  and  Mauritanians,  with  Bocchus,  and  Jugurtha,  and 
Masinissa,  and  Syphax  at  their  head,  would  now  see,  could 
they  start  up  from  their  graves,  nothing  to  excite  surprise. 


158  THE    BERBER. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


THE  morning  was  nearly  spent,  when  Hassan  returning  to 
the  Kassar  Farawan,  announced  to  the  distressed  Isabel  the 
failure  of  all  attempts  to  trace  the  course  of  the  kaid.  With 
a  heavy  heart  the  rais  gave  the  order  to  move  forward. 

"  'Tis  our  only  chance,"  he  exclaimed,  "  to  push  on  to 
Mequinez,  where  I  will  see  the  soltan  at  once,  and  obtain  his 
permission  to  pursue  the  kaid — which,  by  the  head  of  the  Pro 
phet,  I  will  do  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  Believe  me,  senorita, 
your  sister  shall  yet  be  restored  to  you." 

Isabel  was  too  deeply  in  love,  and  had  too  much  confi 
dence  in  her  lover's  judgment  and  energy  not  to  feel  the  con 
soling  influence  of  his  assurances ;  but  still  her  spirits  could 
not  rally  from  the  shock — she  felt  heart-sick — a  sensation  of 
faintness  spread  through  her  frame ;  and  it  was  with  difficulty, 
notwithstanding  the  constant  encouraging  attentions  of  the 
rais,  that  she  could  preserve  her  seat  in  the  saddle. 

With  a  quickened  step,  the  cavalcade  moved  on.  It  was 
about  noon.  The  road,  indicated  only  by  the  foot-prints  of 
men  and  camels,  led  directly  beneath  the  steep  side  of  a 
small  eminence.  The  rais  was  about  to  order  a  halt  for 
refreshment  at  the  base  of  the  precipice,  when,  suddenly,  the 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  159 

steps  of  all  were  arrested  by  a  wild  shriek  from  Isabel. 
Motionless,  she  sat  for  a  moment  gazing  upward  at  the  figure 
of  Juanita,  who  now  attracted  all  eyes,  as  she  stood  upon 
the  brink  of  the  hill-side.  The  next  instant  Isabel  sprang 
from  her  mule,  and  before  the  rais  could  offer  aid  or  inter 
ference,  she  dashed  up  the  steep  sides  of  the  hillock — gullied 
and  scarped  by  the  rains,  so  that  no  horse  could  follow  her — 
and  threw  herself,  overcome  by  physical  exhaustion  and  men 
tal  emotion,  into  her  sister's  arms. 

Quick  as  thought,  the  rais  whirled  his  horse,  and  gallop 
ing  a  little  distance  to  where  the  ascent  was  not  so  steep, 
he  spurred  up  the  slope.  He  was  followed  by  some  of  the 
guards. 

"  Cover  your  faces  senoritas,"  he  exclaimed.  "  Quick,  you 
must  not  be  seen  by  these  men,  or  before  sunrise  to-morrow 
all  Mequinez  will  not  be  large  enough  to  hold  the  fame  of 
your  beauty." 

The  sisters  drew  their  haicks  over  their  faces,  but  they  still 
remained  clasped  in  each  others'  arms. 

Hassan  sent  his  men  back  to  the  main  body  with  orders 
for  a  noontide  halt,  while  he  disposed  himself  to  listen  to 
Juanita' s  account  of  her  adventures. 

"  No  men  !"  exclaimed  the  rais,  when  Juanita  delivered  the 
message  of  the  Berber.  "  Why,  I  thought  he  had  his  whole 
tribe  within  call.  But  he  said  that  he  would  grant  us  his 
assistance  even  yet,"  he  eagerly  demanded. 

"  Such  were  his  words,"  replied  Juanita. 

"  God  grant  that  it  may  not  come  too  late.  And  you, 
senorita,  did  he  make  you  no  assurances  at  parting  ?" 


160  THE     BERBER. 

The  color  rushed  to  Juanita's  face,  but  drawing  her  head 
into  the  folds  of  her  haick  it  escaped  observation. 

"  He  said  that  we  should  meet  again,"  muttered  Jua- 
nita. 

"  Did  he,"  exclaimed  the  rais,  his  eye  brightening.  "  Did 
he  say  that?  then  we  'are  safe.  You  wonder  at  my  confi 
dence,"  he  continued,  turning  to  Isabe],  in  the  indefinite 
promises  of  a  Berber  chief;  but  if  you  knew  what  I  know — his 
power — his  boundless  resources  of  mind  and  person — the 
facility  with  which  he  passes  through  all  parts  of  the  coun 
try — the  impunity  with  which  he  mingles  in  the  very  court 
of  the  soltan — the  foresight  with  which  he  thwarts  all  plots 
for  his  capture — and  the  dexterity  and  certainty  with  which 
he  punishes  his  enemies  and  serves  his  friends — if  you  knew 
all  this,  you  too  would  have  confidence  in  him.  What  say 
you,  Juanita  1  You  have  seen  him,  and  can  judge  something 
of  him.  Think  you  that  we  can  rely  upon  him  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes  !"  exclaimed  Juanita  eagerly ;  "  I  am  certain 
that  he  will  endeaver  to  aid  us,  and  I  doubt  not  his  power." 

"  But,  to  enable  him  to  do  so,  we  must  give  him  time," 
said  Hassan.  "The  Moors  all  maintain  that  he  is  in  com 
pact  with  the  evil,  one ;  but  I  doubt  whether  he  has  any  su 
pernatural  power ;  and,  while  depending  ultimately  on  him,  we 
must  look  to  ourselves  for  safety  in  the  meantime.  You  say 
that  the  kaid  took  the  road  to  Mequinez  T' 

"  So  said  the  Berber,"  replied  Juanita. 

"  The  scoundrel  has  forestalled  us,  then,  with  the  emperor, 
and  it  will  be  hardly  safe  for  you  to  enter  the  city  with  these 
captives.  But  I  have  a  plan  by  which  you  can  be  secreted 


A      TALE     OF    MOROCCO.  161 

for   awhile,  and  which  will  give  time  for  the  favorable  events 
hanging  on  the  bough  of  hope,  to  ripen  and  fall." 

Calling  up  Selim,  the  rais  gave  him  orders  to  mount,  and 
set  out  with  all  speed  for  Mequinez.  "  Spare  not  the  spur ;" 
he  exclaimed,  "  a  hundred  ducats,  if  you  convey  my  message 
in  time.  Go  to  the  house  of  Abdallah — you  know  it — and 
say  to  Abdallah  that  I  must  see  him  to-night.  You  will  come 
with  him,  and  direct  him  to  the  palm  grove,  at  the  foot  of 
Djeblesaghir, \r\LQTQ  we  shall  encamp.  Away!  and  see  that  you 
bring  him." 

Selim  waited  for  no  second  order;  but,' mounting,  started 
at  full  speed  for  the  city,  distant  about  ten  miles. 

Notwithstanding  the  impatience  of  some  of  the  officers  of 
the  cavalcade  to  set  out,  in  the  hope  of  reaching  Mequinez  that 
afternoon,  it  was  full  two  hours  after  the  departure  of  Selim, 
before  the  rais  gave  the  word  to  move  on.  The  country  was 
rough  and  uneven,  and  the  movements  of  the  chained  slaves 
necessarily  slow,  so  that  the  sun  was  well  advanced  in  the 
western  arc  of  his  course  when  the  party  reached  the  foot  of 
the  Djeblesaghir,  or  Little  Hill. 

The  rais  ordered  a  halt,  and  announced  his  intention  of 
camping  for  the  night.  The  horses  were  picketed,  tents 
pitched,  guards  set,  and  amid  hundreds  of  half-naked  Arabs, 
who  rushed  from  the  neighboring  douahs  to  get  sight 
of  the  Christians'  preparations  made  for  the  principal  meal 
of  the  day.  A  dozen  fires  blazed  brightly  beneath  as  many 
large  earthen  pots  in  which  were  placed  pieces  of  chicken  or 
mutton,  with  sufficient  water  and  butter  for  a  stew.  Stores 
of  cooscoosoo  were  produced,  and  when  cooked  by  the 


162  THE    BERBER. 

steam  coming  up  through  the  holes  of  an  earthern  dish  fitting 
the  mouth  of  the  pot,  from  the  savory  messes  below,  were  turn 
ed  out  into  bowls  and  mingled  with  the  fricasseed  chicken  or 
mutton.  Then  bowls  were  placed  upon  the  ground,  and 
squatting  around  them,  the  Moors  with  a  universal "  Bishmillah  ! 
in  the  name  of  God!  "  thrust  in  their  hands,  and,  with  a  few 
flourishes,  the  contents  of  the  whole  disappeared.  For  the 
Christian  captives  a  scanty  supply  of  mouldy  bread  and  a 
few  jars  of  rancid  butter  sufficed. 

After  supper  the  sentinels  rolled  themselves  in  their  haicks 
and  lay  motionless  but  watchful  on  the  ground :  the  rest  of  the 
Moors  disposed  themselves  for  a  talk  in  several  groups.  The 
snuff-box,  with  the  celebrated  snuff  of  Mequinez,  was  passed 
about,  (the  Moors  neither  smoking  nor  chewing  tobacco,)  while 
a  few  produced  their  pipes  for  the  kief  or  prepared  seed  of 
the  hemp,  and  with  a  few  whiffs  of  the  powerful  narcotic  were 
floating  in  an  elysium  of  voluptuous  sensation. 

About  an  hour  before  midnight  Selim  entered  the  camp. 
Advancing  to  his  master,  who  was  on  the  watch  beside  the 
door  of  the  tent  allotted  to  the  sisters,  he  whispered  a  few 
words  in  his  ear.  Hassan  started  to  his  feet  and  followed 
the  black,  who  took  a  path  leading  through  the  palm  grove 
over  the  brow  of  the  hill.  They  had  not  gone  far  when  Selim 
halted,  and  making  a  low  sound  with  his  mouth,  it  was  an 
swered  by  the  appearance  of  Abdallah. 

Dispensing  with  the  usual  courteous  compliments  of  the 
Moors,  Hassan  seized  Abdallah  at  once  by  the  haick,  and, 
drawing  him  aside,  began  speaking  to  him  rapidly  in  Spanish. 

"  You  would  know  why  I  sent  for  you,"  he  demanded. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  163 

"Your  brother1?"  queried  Abdallah.  "He  is  well,  and 
strange  to  say,  evinces  no  impatience  at  his  confinement. 
My  daughter  tries  to  amuse  him  with  her  voice  and  her  guitar, 
and  truly  the  young  man  seems  pleased  with  her  music." 

"No,  not  my  brother,  though  God  be  thanked  that  the 
son  of  my  mother  is  safe  and  well ;  'tis  another  favor  that  I  have 
to  ask  of  you,  but  much  I  fear  that  the  wild  steed  of  desire  is 
leaping  the  bounds  of  our  friendship." 

"  Say  not  so,"  answered  Abdallah.  "  I  owe  you  much, 
and  do  I  not  live  in  hopes  of  some  day  taking  my  daughter 
and  fortune  from  this  cursed  land  only  through  you?  You 
know  the  desire  of  my  heart " 

"  Yes,  and  you  shall  eat  of  it  if  I  have  to  pluck  it  for 
you  from  the  topmost  branches  of  the  tree  of  danger ;  but 
much  I  fear  that  what  I  have  to  propose  will  exhaust  the  well 
of  your  kindness.  Sending  my  brother  to  you  was  picking 
the  blossoms  of  charity,  but  now  I  am  going  to  pull  at  the 
roots.  Listen ! " 

Dropping  his  metaphorical  style,  the  rais  rapidly  ran  over 
all  the  circumstances  with  which  the  reader  is  familiar,  and 
ended  by  proposing  that  the  kaid  of  the  gates  should  take 
charge  of  the  sisters,  escort  them  into  town,  and  secret  them 
for  a  while  at  least  in  his  house. 

Abdallah  listened  in  silence.  "  This  is  a  bad  business 
indeed,"  he  exclaimed,  when  Hassan  had  finished,  "  and  danger 
ous  too.  Know  you  not  that  Hammed  ben  Slowek  is  all- 
powerful  with  the  soltan.  He  is  a  saint — Allah's  curses  on 
the  whole  tribe  of  saintly  vagabonds." 

"  A  saint,"  demanded  Hassan,  with  an  expression  of  alarm 
in  his  vcice.  "  A  saint  ?  God  help  us." 


164  THE     BERBER. 

And  well  might  the  rais  feel  a  thrill  of  apprehension.  The 
saints  of  Morocco  were  then,  as  they  are  now,  a  numerous 
body  of  the  most  ignorant,  malicious,  and  sordid  scoundrels 
that  could  be  found  in  all  the  empire.  Their  reputation  for 
sanctity  enabling  them  to  outrage  the  strongest  prejudices  of 
the  Moors — to  violate  all  sense  of  decency — and  to  commit 
the  most  outrageous  crimes  with  impunity.  Those  in  highest 
repute  are  generally  descendants  of  some  famous  saint  of  the 
olden  time,  although  it  is  possible  for  any  one  to  take  up 
the  trade,  and  by  a  few  additional  prayers,  to  acquire  the 
title  and  the  privilege  of  living  in  idleness  upon  the  alms 
of  the  faithful.  Maniacs  and  fools  are  generally  saints  by 
virtue  of  their  infirmities  ;  and  their  reputation  and  influ 
ence  are  commonly  proportioned  to  the  violence  and  extrava 
gance  of  their  actions,  or  the  filthiness  and  impurity  of  their 
habits  and  dress. 

"  He  is  a  santon,"  replied  Abdallah,  "  but  luckily  he  inhe 
rits  his  sanctity  from  no  long  line  of  ancestors,  nor  from  any 
saint  of  renown.  His  father  was  the  first  saint  of  his  family, 
and  is  well  remembered  as  one  of  the  vilest,  most  malicious 
scoundrels  that  ever  used  a  reputed  holiness  to  cover  all 
manner  of  crimes.  The  soltan  is,  you  know,  a  strict  Moham 
medan  ;  and  although  he  has  no  hesitation  in  violating  saints' 
houses,  and  even  cutting  their  heads  off,  when  it  suits  him, 
he  in  general  affects  to  be  very  deferential  to  the  rascals. 
This  Hammed  ben  Slowek  pretends  to  go  every  Friday  to 
Mecca,  from  whence  he  frequently  brings  the  soltan  pre 
sents.  Muley  Ismael,  one  would  think,  has  too  much  sense 
to  believe  in  the  kaid's  journeys ;  but,  however  that  may  be, 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  165 

he  pretends  that  he"  does,  and  has,  for  some  time,  treated  the 
impostor  with  strong  marks  of  favor." 

"'Tis  unfortunate,  indeed,"  exclaimed  Hassan;  "think 
you  that  it  will  not  be  best  to  seek  this  dog  of  a  saiiton 
first,  and  send  him  where  his  saintly  pretensions  can  be  bet 
ter  judged  of  than  in  this  world1?" 

"  No,  that  would  be  dangerous  indeed  ;  not  only  the  soltan, 
but  the  populace  would  be  against  you." 

The  worthy  kaid  of  the  gates  mused  for  a  moment. 

"  Our  only  hope,"  he  continued,  "  is  in  time  and  the  Ber 
ber.  He  has  promised  to  aid  you?" 

"  He  sent  me  such  a  message  but  a  few  hours  since,"  said 
Hassan. 

"  It  may  be  in  his  power  to  assist  you  in  a  flight  to  the 
hills,"  replied  the  kaid,  in  a  meditative  tone,  "  and  that,  per 
haps  will  suit  my  purpose  as  well ;  I  may  need  some  help  of 
that  kind  myself." 

"  I  must  try  and  secrete  these  damsels,"  he  continued, 
"  for  a  few  days ;  but  not  in  my  own  house ;  that  would  be 
a  useless  risk.  Ah  !  I  have  a  plan  ;  there  is  a  vacant  house 
adjoining  mine  that  I  will  secure  possession  of  for  the  pur 
pose.  But,  be  quick — time  presses — call  these  Spanish  beau 
ties  ;  for  beauties  I  know  they  are,  or  you  would  not  take 
such  an  interest  in  their  fate.  I  would  enter  the  gates  at 
early  dawn  to  be  in  time  for  the  soltan's  meshourah" 

Without  further  words  Hassan  returned  to  the  sisters' 
tent,  and  shortly  explained  his  plans,  and  the  necessity  for 
expedition.  In  a  few  moments  they  were  ready.  Selim 
brought  up  the  mules ;  the  sisters  mounted,  and  taking  the 


166  THE     BERBER. 

bridles,  Hassan  and  the  black  led  the  beasts  to  the  spot, 
amid  the  palms,  where  Abdallah,  mounted  upon  one  of  the 
small  but  active  and  spirited  donkeys  of  the  country,  was 
awaiting  them. 

"Adios,  senorita,"  whispered  the  rais  to  Isabel ;  "  go — go  in 
peace,  and  may  the  blessing  of  Seidna  Aisa,  the  Messiah,  go 
with  you.  And  you,  senorita,  have  confidence  in  Abdallah ;  he 
was  a  friend  of  my  boyhood ;  and  since  then  I  have  served 
him.  His  manner  is  cold,  and  his  words  cautious  ;  but  his 
heart  is  warm,  and  his  breast  harbors  no  guile.  Adios !" 

Hassan's  voice  trembled ;  his  heart  was  full  of  emotion. 
The  image  of  his  brother  rose  up  before  him ;  he  started  with 
affright  to  find  that  that  image,  occurring  at  the  moment  of 
parting  with  the  Gaditana,  gave  him  pain.  Hassan,  though 
still  so  young,  had  long  schooled  himself  to  master  his  emo 
tions.  Though  trained  in  the  rites  of  el  Islam,  and  though 
bred  a  corsair,  the  Christian  element  of  his  character  had 
never  been  wholly  eradicated.  Not  that  he  was  a  Christian ; 
but  he  ever  felt  a  consciousness  that  he  was  not  a  Moor ; 
that  he  had  something  in  him  which  his  companions  had  not 
— something  that  he  could  not  reveal,  and  of  which  he  did 
not  rightly  know  the  value  himself.  This  consciousness  had 
ever  kept  him  spiritually  aloof  from  those  by  whom  he  was 
surrounded.  The  better  part  of  his  nature  had  walked  apart 
from  the  evil  influences  of  his  profession;  and  thus  brood 
ing  in  solitude,  his  soul,  naturally  pure  and  noble,  had  had 
an  opportunity  of  expanding  itself  unhampered  by  the  petty 
prejudices  of  sect  or  creed.  The  virtues  of  magnanimity  and 
generosity  had  taken  deep  root,  and  flourished. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  167 

Hassan  recovered  himself  in  a  moment;  resolutely  he 
entertained  the  image  of  his  brother,  his  twin-brother,  the 
son  of  his  mother.  He  thought  of  him  as  the  lover,  and,  for 
aught  he  knew,  the  favored  lover  of  Isabel.  Sternly  he  re 
pressed  the  tide  of  feeling  that  was  prompting  him  to  some 
passionate  demonstration.  He  would  not  even  take  her  hand. 
He  merely  permitted  himself  to  touch  her  garments,  and 
press  his  own  hand  to  his  lips. 

The  young  man  hesitated  for  a  moment,  and  then  he  drew 
a  small  package  from  his  girdle,  and  put  it  into  Isabel's 
hand.  "  I  believe  not  much  in  the  efficacy  of  talismans,"  he 
whispered,  "  but  take  this  ;  it  can  do  no  harm.  Adieu !  may 
the  God  of  all  the  prophets  watch  over  you." 

The  package  contained  a  written  charm,  in  Arabic, 
consisting  of  a  verse  from  the  Koran ;  such  as  the  Moors 
are  in  the  habit  of  wearing  on  their  persons,  and  hang 
ing  around  the  necks  of  their  horses,  to  avert  ill  fortune  ;  the 
ten  commandments,  in  Hebrew,  which  the  Jewish  women 
of  Barbary  are  in  the  custom  of  enclosing  in  little  rolls  of 
leather,  and  tying  upon  their  foreheads ;  and  a  silver  crucifix 
with  an  image  of  the  Saviour.  The  truly  Catholic  rover  had 
charged  his  amulet  upon  the  principle  of  putting  in  all  kinds 
of  shot  for  all  kinds  of  game.  Isabel  secured  the  package  in 
her  bosom,  though,  could  she  have  suspected  the  unconscious 
sacrilege  of  the  rais,  in  thus  jumbling  the  symbols  of  Judaism, 
Mohammedanism  and  Christianity,  she  would  have  cast  it 
from  her  as  though  it  had  been  a  gift  of  the  evil  one. 
Luckily,  she  knew  nothing  about  it ;  and  the  peculiar  religi 
ous  state  of  mind  of  the  rais  troubled  not  her  thoughts,  as 


168  THE     BERBER. 

with  his  image  filling  her  whole  mind,  she  allowed  her  mule 
to  quietly  follow  the  guidance  of  Selim. 

Pressing  on  more  rapidly  when  the  party  had  reached  the 
open  ground,  Abdallah  took  a  route  that  led  around  into  the 
road  dividing  the  negro-town,  or  the  camp  of  Muley  Ismael's 
black  troops,  from  the  city — thus  coming  upon  the  gates  as  if 
from  the  south.  But  it  is  unnecessary  to  follow  their  steps  in 
detail,  inasmuch  as  their  detour  and  entrance  into  the  city  were 
effected  without  adventure  of  any  kind. 

Upon  returning  to  camp  the  rais  threw  himself  upon  the 
ground,  but  he  could  not  sleep.  The  image  of  Isabel  would 
intrude  itself,  notwithstanding  that  his  whole  soul  revolted  at 
any  feeling  inconsistent  with  what  he  supposed  to  be  the  prior 
rights  of  his  new  found  brother.  The  unfortunate  circumstances 
of  his  life  had  left  him,  as  we  have  said,  but  little  religion  of 
any  kind ;  while  high  sentiments  of  honor  and  honesty,  may  per 
haps  be  supposed  to  be  inconsistent  with  his  profession.  But 
it  must  be  recollected  that  piracy  in  that  day,  among  the  Moors, 
especially  when  directed  against  the  Spaniards,  was  con 
sidered  a  legitimate  and  honorable  warfare  with  national  ene 
mies,  and  that  high  and  pure  personal  qualities  in  an  indivi 
dual,  are  perfectly  consistent  with  his  adhesion  to  the  general 
average  morality  of  his  age,  his  country,  or  his  party.  Were 
this  principle  better  understood,  and  kept  more  steadily  in 
view,  political,  social,  and  religious  disputes,  of  which  this  age 
of  progress  is  so  prolific,  would  be  characterized  by  much 
more  of  charity  for  motives,  and  much  less  of  personal  abuse. 

The  disagreeable  reveries  of  the  young  man  were  put  an 
end  to  by  a  stir  in  the  camp — it  was  the  first  flush  of  morn 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  169 

that  aroused  the  recumbent  sentinels,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
guards  and  captives  were  afoot.  With  the  rapidity  peculiar 
to  low  latitudes,  the  purple  haze  of  the  dawn  brightened  into 
the  full  light  of  sunrise,  disclosing  a  large  body  of  the  soltan's 
black  troops  coming  over  the  plain  from  the  city. 

The  instant  the  imperial  soldiers  caught  sight  of  the  caval 
cade  of  the  rais  they  changed  their  pace,  and  spurred  into  a 
quick  gallop.  Their  numbers  amounted  to  about  five  hundred, 
and  at  their  head  rode  the  kaid  of  the  slaves,  Hammond  ben 
Slowck.  Upon  their  approach  the  rais  gave  orders  to  his 
men  to  mount  and  form,  and  quietly  he  awaited  the  onset. 

"  In  the  name  of  Sidi  our  Lord,  whom  God  preserve !"  ex 
claimed  the  kaid,  hi  a  loud  tone,  "  I  take  possession  of  all  these 
slaves ;  "  and  you,"  addressing  the  rais,  "  I  shall  arrest  you  as 
a  traitor — we  will  see  who  it  is  who  dared  to  raise  his  hand  to 
a  saint,  and  the  minister  of  the  shereef." 

"  If  you  have  the  command  of  the  soltan.  to  take  these  my 
captives,  I  will  not  resist,"  said  Hassan  in  a  calm  tone ;  "  but 
for  myself.  I  trust  not  my  person  in  your  hands.  I  shall  pre 
sent  myself  to  the  shereef — but  I  shall  pick  my  own  path,  and 
choose  my  own  company." 

Turning  to  his  men,  he  ordered  them  to  close  up  and  fol 
low  him,  "  We  are  no  longer  needed  here,"'  he  exclaimed,  "  and 
we  may  as  well  move  on  to  the  city." 

Rage  and  hate  distorted  the  ugly  countenance  of  the  kaid, 
as  he  watched  the  departing  rais.  He  was  about  to  make  a 
demonstration  of  his  feelings  by  attempting  to  arrest  him,  but 
prudence  finally  prevailed.  The  horsemen  of  the  rais  closed 

UD  their  lines  with  too  determined  an  air,  at  the  -word  of  their 

8 


170  THE     BERBER. 

leader,  to  have  rendered  it  a  safe  matter,  even  with  his  greatly 
superior  force.  Besides,  the  kaid  had  no  special  warrant  for 
arresting  the  rover,  and  he  knew  that  unless  he  could  put  him 
at  once  out  of  the  way,  so  that  his  complaints  could  never  reach 
the  soltan,  the  capricious  tyrant  might  some  day  hold  him 
strictly  to  account. 

The  kaid  turned  to  examine  the  captives.  He  knew  not  of 
Juanita's  return,  and  he  was  prepared  therefore  to  find  her 
gone — a  glance  convinced  him  that  Isabel  was  also  absent.  He 
rode  to  the  sisters'  tent — it  was  empty.  Dashing  his  spurs  into 
his  horse  he  galloped  after  the  rais.  His  whole  frame  shook 
and  his  voice  trembled  with  passion.  "  Hold !  Spawn  of  a 
Christian !  Son  of  a  burnt  grandfather !"  he  shouted,  "  answer 
me.  Where  are  the  Kaffir  women  ?" 

"  Dog  !"  replied  Hassan,  as  he  wheeled  his  horse  along 
side  the  kaid,  and  shook  his  clenched  fist  in  his  face,  "  dog — 
accursed  liar  and  thief!  How  dare  you  ask  that  question  ! 
Think  you  I  know  not  the  robber  who  carried  off  my  captive 
at  Kassar  Farawan  *?  Go  !  begone,  or  I  shall  be  tempted  to 
stain  my  sword  with  your  base  blood  !" 

The  kaid  galloped  back  to  his  troops,  and  dividing  them  into 
two  bodies,  the  larger  one  to  guard  the  prisoners,  and  the  small 
er  one  to  accompany  himself,  he  set  out  at  full  speed  across 
the  open  plain,  for  the  city. 

"  We  must  quicken  our  pace,  men,"  said  the  rais,  "  'Tis  the 
day  for  the  soltan 's  meshourah.  He  will  administer  justice  in 
full  court,  and  our  heads  will  not  be  safe  if  we  let  this  lying 
scoundrel  precede  us  ;  so  forward  men — our  horses  are  fresh, 
and  honesty  has  wings,  while  guilt  rides  a  laggard — we  must 


A    TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  171 

be  before  him,  for  what  says  the  sage,  '  one  lie  in  the  soltan's 
head,  will  keep  out  twenty  truths.' 

With  a  loud  cheer,  the  long  rowels  and  sharp  corners  of  the 
stirrup  irons  were  industriously  scraped  against  the  sides  of  the 
straining  barbs,  and  both  parties  scoured  the  plain  in  nearly 
parallel  courses,  at  a  rate  which  soon  brought  them — the  party 
of  the  rais,  a  little  in  advance — to  the  gates  of  the  city. 


172 


THE     BERBER. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 


"  THE  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man  "  is  an  oft-quoted 
saying  of  the  poet.  If  we  might  aspire  to  the  honor  of  pro 
creating  a  similar  adage,  of  equal  profundity  and  of  nearly  equal 
originality  and  novelty,  we  should  say  that  the  most  difficult 
study  of  mankind  is  woman.  It  is  barely  possible,  however, 
that  the  novelty  and  originality  of  the  observation  may  be 
disputed,  but  we  defy  any  one  to  question  its  truth.  In  fact, 
for  most  men,  the  nature  of  woman  is  a  sealed  book,  and  must 
necessarily  ever  remain  so.  They  love  them  and  hate  them, 
admire  them  and  contemn  them,  natter  them  and  abuse  them, 
do  anything  and  everything  but  understand  them.  They  have 
not  that  femininity  of  sentiment  superadded  to  their  masculine 
qualities,  the  happy  gift  of  a  few  lofty  poetic  souls,  that  can 
place  them  en  rapport  with  the  inner  nature  of  women.  They 
cannot  make  any  allowance,  or,  at  least,  cannot  do  so  instinc 
tively  and  through  the  intuitions  of  sensibility,  for  the  essential 
peculiarities  of  soul  manifesting  itself  through  an  organization 
which  morally,  mentally  and  physically,  is  so  entirely  unlike 
their  own.  Even  the  boasted  knowledge  of  the  most  expe 
rienced  man  of  the  world  is  but  a  knowledge  of  results.  Give 
him  the  circumstances  of  situation  and  character,  and  he  can 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  173 

guess  pretty  shrewdly  what  a  woman  will  do,  but  he  knows 
not  how  she  does  it,  or  what  are  the  direct  processes  of  female 
intellect  and  feeling.  As  in  hunting  the  deer — the  clever  sports 
man  knows  where  the  game  will  come  out,  and  stations  himself 
for  a  shot,  but  knows  not  the  precise  path  the  animal  will 
choose,  or  the  number  of  turns  and  deviations  he  will  make — 
still  less  the  deeper  sentiments,  emotions,  feelings — the  inner 
life  of  the  deer.  'Tis  the  poet,  not  the  naturalist  or  the  sports 
man,  who  can  gather  the  "  big  round  tears  as  they  course  one 
another  down  his  innocent  nose  in  piteous  chase." 

But  enough  has  been  said  to  indicate  the  diffidence  with 
which  are  ventured  upon  a  division  and  classification  of  female 
character  suggested  by  a  glance  at  the  three  principal  person 
ages  of  our  tale.  First  is  the  woman  in  whom  the  will  is 
predominant  over  the  other  qualities  of  mind.  Between  this 
character  and  most  men,  there  is  a  principle  of  repulsion  which, 
despite  the  attraction  of  other  qualities,  tends  to  keep  them 
apart.  The  interval  may  be  small,  but  still  it  is  an  interval — 
and  unless,  as  in  some  rare  cases,  the  interval  is  passed,  and 
the  two  become  one,  swallowed  up  in  each  other,  as  it  were, 
like  two  coalescing  globules  of  mercury,  the  dust  of  self  settles 
in  it.  and  the  repulsion  is  increased.  An  unlucky  endowment 
is  this  energy  and  force  of  character — this  powerful  volition — 
this  superiority  not  only  to  her  sex,  but  to  the  common  herd  of 
men.  Rarely  does  the  heart  of  such  a  woman  find  its  mate  or 
its  master.  But  when  it  does  so  happen — when  passion  is 
aroused,  reason  and  fancy  taken  captive,  and  the  strong  will 
mastered  by  a  still  stronger  and  more  irresistible  energy  of 
character — then  is  developed  a  capacity  for  a  love  which 


174  THE     BERBER. 

poets  have  painted,  but  which  few  women  know — for  a  love 
ardent  and  glowing,  and  animating  as  the  summer's  sun,  but 
subject  to  no  revolutions,  or  changes  or  spots  that  can  dim  its 
lustre. 

The  second  class  of  women  is  of  those  in  whom  the  affec 
tions  are  the  strongest.  They  may  have  more  or  less  of  wit, 
will  and  intellect,  but  feeling  and  affection  are  supreme.  And 
in  proportion  as  the  peculiar  combination  of  moral  qualities 
characterizing  the  female  predominates,  does  the  representative 
of  this  class  differ  from  the  common  type  of  man;  and  so  in 
proportion  does  she  melt  into  his  soul,  softening  the  harder  and 
baser  metal  with  her  pure  gold,  into  a  valuable  and  harmo 
nious  alloy. 

The  third  class  is  of  those  in  which  the  imagination  is  the 
mistress.  Everything  is  modified  and  controlled  by  the  poe 
tic  faculty.  Nothing  can  be  more  charming  than  the  brilliant 
tinge  that  this  quality  throws  over  the  whole  character;  but  it 
requires  an  even  balance  of  the  other  faculties  to  sustain  the 
glare.  With  strong  salient  points  and  corresponding  depressions, 
the  effect  is  bad,  even  in  men,  much  more  so  in  women,  espe 
cially  in  their  relations  to  men.  Like  sunrise  on  Alps  or  Andes, 
the  brighter  the  high  peaks  glow,  the  deeper  are  the  shadows  in 
the  valleys.  In  love  a  predominant  imagination  has  its  advan 
tages  and  its  disadvantages.  A  woman  of  this  class  requires 
heroes — unluckily  there  are  no  heroes — but  fortunately  she  is 
capable  of  making  them  for  herself.  The  difficulty  is,  however, 
that  when  made  they  will  not  last,  unless  as  in  the  case  of  our 
Moorish  maiden  Xaripha,  whom  we  left  commencing  the  exer 
cise  of  her  art  upon  Edward  Carlyle,  the  original  material  is  of 
sufficient  quality  and  strength. 


A     TALE      OF     MOROCCO.  175 

But  to  escape  from  this  presumptuous,  and,  if  the  reader 
will  believe  it,  wholly  involuntary  adventuring  upon  a  subject 
which  admits  of  as  many  views  as  there  can  be  found  observers, 
let  us  return,  for  a  moment,  while  the  rais  and  kaid  are  waiting 
in  the  great  court  of  the  palace  for  the  appearance  of  the  soltan, 
to  the  house  of  Abdallah,  where,  it  will  be  recollected,  we  .left 
Xaripha  singing  a  Moorish  ballad  to  Edward  Carlyle. 

But  five  short  weeks  had  elapsed,  and  yet  the  Moorish 
maiden  and  the  young  Englishman  had  lived  ages  of  ordinary 
life ;  that  is,  if  the  progress  of  time  is  estimated,  as  well  it 
may  be,  by  the  developement  of  sentiment,  and  the  expansion 
of  the  heart.  To  them,  however,  the  actual  time  seemed  short, 
and  the  five  weeks  were  but  as  five  days. 

The  love  of  Edward  for  Xaripha  was  fierce,  passionate, 
and  sensuous.  His  senses  were  ravished,  carried  away,  mad 
dened  by  the  sentiment  of  physical  and  sexual  beauty.  Not 
that  he  was  insensible  to  her  graces  of  mind,  or  to  her  moral 
charms  ;  but  his  whole  soul  glowed  and  trembled  in  the  mag 
netic  light  that  seemed  to  him  to  stream  from  every  point 
of  her  rounded  form,  from  every  flash  of  her  lustrous  eye, 
from  every  dimple  and  curve  of  her  features.  His  was  the 
love  of  the  old  Greek,  who  lived  in  friendly,  not  scientific  or 
sentimental  relations  with  the  material  world ;  who  adored 
nature  instead  of  analyzing  her ;  who  deified  the  elemental 
forces,  and  who  gloried  in  the  animal  while  conceding  a  wide 
domain  to  the  spiritual,  and  a  still  wider  domain  to  the  in 
tellectual. 

And  Xaripha  returned  this  love  with  an  almost  equally 
passionate  eagerness ;  but  in  her  it  was  modified  in  its  ma- 


176  THE     BERBER. 

nifestations  by  natural  modesty  and  the  influence  of  the  ima 
gination.  The  form  and  figure  of  the  young  man  were  suffi 
cient  for  her  sense  of  manly  beauty ;  but  not  content  with 
that,  she  at  once  invested  him,  mentally  and  morally,  with  all 
the  attributes  of  the  heroic.  While  he  grovelled,  the  veriest 
slave  of  her  charms,  at  her  feet,  she  lifted  him  so  high,  that 
she  could  barely  perceive  the  chains  by  which  he  was  bound. 
When  a  woman  elevates  her  lover  thus  high,  it  needs  but 
the  slightest  spark  of  suspicion  to  kindle  a  flame  of  jealousy 
large  enough  to  fill  up  the  interval  between  his  exaltation  and 
her  own  self-abasement. 

The  progress  of  the  affair  was  silently  watched  by  Ab- 
dallah,  he  offered  no  objection  to  the  lovers  being  continual 
ly  together.  His  desire  to  leave  the  country  and  take  up 
his  residence  in  some  Christian  land,  had  gathered  additional 
force  since  his  appointment  to  the  office  of  kaid  of  the 
gates,  and  he  knew  that  in  case  they  could  compass  their 
escape,  a  young  and  efficient  protector  for  his  beloved  daugh 
ter  would  be  the  thing  the  most  to  be  desired.  The  duties 
of  the  kaid  required  his  presence  the  greater  part  of  the 
day  at  the  palace,  thus  leaving  the  lovers  pretty  much  to 
themselves,  or  at  most  disturbed  only  by  the  passing  to  and 
fro.  in  their  household  avocations,  of  two  or  three  female  slaves, 
who,  under  the  orders  of  Fatima  Laboo,  composed  the  kaid's 
household.  The  caution  of  the  father,  however,  was  not 
asleep.  Although  none  of  the  prejudices  of  his  countrymen, 
in  relation  to  the  intercourse  of  the  sexes,  clung  to  him,  yet, 
as  a  man  of  the  world,  he  thought  it  most  prudent  to  keep 
a  watchful  eye  upon  the  impassioned  lovers,  and  Fatima  was 
charged  with  their  supervision  during  his  absences. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  177 

"  You  must  take  great  care,  Fatima,"  said  the  kaid,  "  that 
none  of  the  women  chatter  to  our  neighbor's  slaves  about 
the  presence  of  this  young  man  here — if  they  do,  I  am 
ruined." 

"  Yah !  sidi ;  if  I  catch  'em,  I'll  cut  their  tongues  out,"  re 
plied  Fatima ;  "  they  know  me ;  they  won't  do  it.  Don't 
be  afraid,  sidi ;  nobody  comes  in  or  goes  out  that  door  but 
you  and  me." 

"  No,  but  they  will  talk  over  the  battlements." 

"  Yah !  yah !  I  like  to  see  them  do  it.  I  tell  'em  I  make 
grand  Obi.  Yah,  yah !  they  too  'fraid  to  talk." 

"  Well,  Fatima,  I  leave  it  all  to  you,"  said  Abdallah  in 
a  confidential  tone ;  "  but  there  is  one  thing  more ;  you  love 
Xariphal" 

"  Yah !  tear  my  heart  right  out,  you  see  Leila  'Ripha  just 
in  the  middle  of  it." 

t;  I  doubt  it  not ;  and,  because  you  love  her,  I  wish  you 
to  keep  your  eye  on  her  and  this  young  man.  Don't  appear  to 
watch  them  ;  but  don't  leave  them  too  long  out  of  your  sight. 
Do  you  understand  ?" 

"  Yah  !  yah  !"  exclaimed  Fatima ;  "  I  understand ;  no  use 
to  tell  me ;  I  watch  'em  all  the  time ;  I  stand  right  behind  him 
when  he  take  Leila  Xaripha's  hand,  and  I  thought  he  was  go 
ing  to  bite  it.  If  he  had,  yah  !  I  had  the  big  cleaver  in  my 
hand,  and  I'd  chopped  his  head  right  off." 

"  Well,  you  need  not  go  so  far  as  that.  If  there  are  any 
heads  to  be  chopped  off,  leave  that  to  me  ;  but  keep  watch  of 
them." 

"  Yah,  yah !  I  see  'em,"  exclaimed  Fatima,  as  she  secured  the 
8* 


178  THE     BERBER. 

street  door  after  her  master  ;  "  and  I  hear  'em  too — yah,  how 
Leila  Xaripha  make  him  talk,  and  he  a  dumb  man — yah,  yah !" 

Unluckily  the  assurances  of  Fatima,  as  to  her  power  of 
enforcing  secrecy  in  relation  to  the  presence  of  the  young  man, 
were  badly  borne  out  by  facts.  Suspicion  had  been  excited 
and  on  the  day  when  Selim  arrived  with  his  message  from  the 
rais,  the  kaid  had  been  informed  of  the  rumor  that  some  mys 
terious  person  was  concealed  in  his  house.  He  knew  that 
his  enemies,  or  those  who  were  envious  of  his  official  eleva 
tion,  and  of  his  influence  with  the  soltan,  would  try  to  turn 
the  rumor  to  his  injury,  and  his  fears  were  excited  for  the 
safety  of  one  whom  he  had  promised  to  protect,  and  whom  he 
had  come  to  regard. 

"  It  will  not  do,"  he  thought,  "  for  him  to  remain  any 
longer  where  he  is :  now  that  suspicion  is  excited,  there  is 
no  knowing  what  turn  the  affair  may  take." 

The  worthy  kaid  was  for  some  time  in  great  perplexity  as  to 
the  best  course  to  pursue.  At  first  he  thought  of  despatching 
Edward  into  the  country,  but  to  this  there  were  many  objec 
tions  ;  an  insuperable  one  being  the  fact  that  the  young  Eng 
lishman  had  not  learned  a  word  of  the  language.  Xaripha 
speaking  both  Spanish  and  Italian  fluently,  and  either  of  those 
languages  being  fully  competent  for  the  purposes  of  love- 
making,  the  necessity  for  the  more  guttural  and  copious  Arabic 
had  not  been  felt.  At  last  he  decided  upon  trying  to  secrete 
him  in  the  millah,  among  the  Jews.  Once  within  the  walls 
of  the  millah,  or  Jewish  quarter,  which,  in  Mequinez,  is  situated 
in  the  centre  of  the  city,  and  secreted  in  the  house  of  some 
Rabbin,  or  person  of  distinction,  he  would  probably  be  safe,  as 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  179 

no  Moors  are  allowed  to  penetrate  the  enclosure,  except  upon 
the  special  order  of  the  higher  authorities  of  the  court.  But 
upon  the  appearance  of  Selim  the  kaid  concluded  to  defer 
saying  anything  about  his  plans  until  the  rais  had  arrived,  and 
thus  for  a  few  hours  longer  the  lovers  were  left  in  happy  igno 
ranee  of  their  approaching  separation. 

It  was  at  an  early  hour  that  the  kaid,  with  his  companions, 
reachod  the  walls  of  the  city.  The  gates  were  closed,  but 
upon  Abdallah's  requisition  as  chief  kaid  of  the  gates  they 
were  flung  open  at  once. 

There  was  light  enough  to  show  a  group  of  Christian 
slaves,  who  were  taking  their  scanty  meal  of  black  barley 
bread,  at  an  angle  of  the  narrow  streets,  preparatory  to  com 
mencing  work  upon  one  of  the  numerous  buildings  which  Mu- 
ley  Isniael  was  for  ever  erecting  and  pulling  down.  Their 
guards  had  either  wandered  away,  or  were  quietly  rolled  up  in 
their  haicks,  on  some  dry  spot  of  ground  asleep,  leaving  their 
miserable  charges  to  talk,  laugh,  curse,  and  squabble  in  all 
languages,  over  their  coarse  and  scanty  meal. 

The  sisters  heard,  close  by  their  side,  a  familiar  voice  ut 
tering  some  ribaldry  in  Spanish,  and  turning,  their  eyes  fell 
upon  the  tall  gaunt  figure  of  Don  Diego  de  Orsolo.  Isabel 
started  with  pleasure :  for  a  moment  she  forgot  all  the  per 
secutions  to  which  she  had  been  subjected ;  all  her  detestation 
of  the  don :  she  thought  of  him  only  as  a  kinsman  and  a 
countryman,  and  her  heart  leaped  at  once  to  her  mouth. 

"  Orsolo,  cousin  Orsolo,  she  cried,  reining  up  her  mule." 

"Ma(Lre  de  dios  !  what  voice  is  that !  who  are  you  ?"  and  the 
don  advanced  to  her  side. 


180  THE     BERBER. 

"  Come  on  senorita/'  whispered  Abdallah,  "  'tis  sure  des 
truction  to  parley  with  these  slaves." 

"  One  moment !"  exclaimed  Isabel,  "  'tis  my  cousin  j"  and 
bending  from  her  saddle,  she  spoke  in  a  low  tone  to  the  won 
dering  don.  Several  questions  and  replies  were  rapidly  inter 
changed  between  them — sufficient  to  apprise  him  of  the  princi 
pal  features  of  their  capture,  and  situation — when,  yielding  to 
another  stern  admonition  from  Abdallah,  and  an  impatient 
gesture  from  Selim,  she  bade  him  adieu. 

"  What  madness  !  sister,"  exclaimed  Juanita,  leaning  back 
in  her  saddle — the  narrow  street  not  permitting  two  to  ride 
abreast. 

"  But  he  is  our  cousin." 

"  True,  and  he  tried  to  force  you  to  be  his  wife — his  cousin- 
ship  makes  him  none  the  less  vile,  and  renders  it  none  the  less 
dangerous  to  intrust  him  with  our  secret.  Heaven  grant  that 
no  evil  come  of  your  readiness  to  acknowledge  an  infamous 
traitor." 

The  young  girl  spoke  in  a  tone  of  reproof  that  betokened 
her  rapidly  developing  superiority,  in  force  of  character, 
over  the  older,  but  more  simple  and  purely  feminine  nature 
of  her  sister.  Isabel  felt  a  conviction  of  her  imprudence,  and 
made  no  reply. 

The  streets  were  beginning  to  be  alive  with  people,  but 
without  attracting  attention,  the  travellers  passed  on  until 
they  stood  before  the  door  of  Abdallah's  dwelling.  Here 
they  paused  for  a  moment,  until  the  kaid  went  in  and  return 
ed  with  a  key,  with  which  he  opened  the  door  leading  to  an 
adjoining  house. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  181 

The  narrow  street  was  raised  in  front  of  the  door  by  the 
accumulated  filth  of  years,  so  that  it  was  necessary  to  step 
down  into  the  doorway ;  but  once  inside,  the  small  open  court 
seemed  cheerful,  and  the  rooms,  though  destitute  of  furniture, 
as  clean  and  comfortable  as  Spanish  ladies  could  desire. 


182  THE     BERBER. 


CHAPTER    XV 


THE  sun  was  about  three  hours  above  the  horizon  when 
the  great  court  and  garden  in  the  centre  of  the  hareem  be 
gan  to  fill  with  the  attendants,  officers,  and  suitors  at  the  sol- 
tan's  meshourah,  or  general  audience  of  justice,  which  it  was 
the  custom  of  the  indefatigable  Muley  Ismael  to  hold  twice 
a  week.  There  were  detachments  of  black  troops  encircling 
the  vast  enclosure — there  were  groups  of  Moors  of  every  de 
gree,  Christian  slaves,  renegadoes  and  Jews,  gangs  of  execu 
tioners,  and  a  large  band  of  impish  looking  boys,  who  were 
kept  by  the  soltan  in  training  for  guards  and  ministers  of  his 
capricious  will.  There  were  kaids  and  governors  of  Fez,  Te- 
tuan,  and  Rabat,  and  bashaws  from  Tafilet,  Tlemcen  and  Soos ; 
and,  waiting  in  an  outer  court  for  the  sol  tan's  appearance,  were 
an  English  ambassador  and  suite,  under  charge  of  one  of  the 
soltan's  sons  and  an  Irish  renegado,  named  Kerr,  who  for 
several  years  lived  in  high  favor  at  the  Maroquien  court. 

The  high  latticed  gallery,  that  we  have  noticed  as  running 
upon  arches  across  the  garden,  was  filled  with  several  hun 
dred  women  of  all  ages,  colors,  and  nations,  but  mostly  na 
tive  born,  or  black  from  Soudan. 

The  clash  and  clang  of  a  hundred  Moorish  instruments 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  183 

broke  upon  the  hushed  air,  and  a  wide  pair  of  arched  folding 
doors  being  thrown  open,  the  soltan  appeared.  To  the  eyes 
of  the  persons  composing  the  English  embassy  the  first  pre 
sentment  of  the  soltan  was  exceedingly  grotesque.  He  was 
seated  in  an  old  fashioned  and  somewhat  dilapidated  English 
gig,  gaudily  painted,  which  was  moved  by  two  stalwart  ne 
groes  supporting  the  shafts,  and  as  many  more  pushing  be 
hind.  This  gig  had  been,  most  probably,  a  portion  of  the 
numerous,  and  frequently,  very  costly  presents,  that  even 
down  to  the  present  day  it  has  been  the  custom  of  Euro 
pean  governments  to  make  to  the  Maroquien  court.  The 
folding  top  was  thrown  back ;  but,  on  either  side,  and  a  lit 
tle  in  the  rear,  ran  two  negroes,  supporting,  by  means  of  long 
poles,  a  parasol  or  canopy  of  red  silk.  With  his  feet  drawn 
up  under  him  upon  the  wide  seat,  sat  the  energetic  old  des 
pot,  while,  in  front  of  him,  and  holding  on  by  the  dash-board, 
stood  a  little  boy  scarcely  three  years  of  age.  This  boy  was 
the  youngest  son  of  the  soltan,  the  child  of  his  old  age.  A 
wide  interval  of  ten  years  separated  him  from  any  of  his 
brothers,  of  whom  the  number  was  several  hundred,  and  the 
whole  affection  of  his  father  was  centred  in  him. 

The  elder  sons  of  .Muley  Ismael  had  given  him  a  good 
deal  of  trouble.  They  were  frequently  in  rebellion  against 
him  ;  driven  into  it  by  his  jealousy  and  the  intrigues  of  Lai- 
la  Ajakah,  the  favorite  queen,  who  had  acquired  an  ascen 
dancy  over  the  mind  of  the  suspicious  despot,  and  who  was 
resolved  to  secure  the  throne  for  her  own  son,  by  goading  the 
soltan  on  to  the  destruction  of  the  elder  children  of  his  other 
wives.  By  this  means  his  feelings  had  become,  in  the  highest 


184  THE     BERBER. 

degree,  exasperated.  He  hated  and  dreaded  his  children,  and 
on  several  occasions  punished  their  supposed  offences  with  the 
most  rigorous  cruelty. 

In  the  minds  of  the  Mequinezians,  the  memory  was  still 
fresh  of  the  horror  that  pervaded  all  hearts  as  the  soltan 
marched  through  the  gates  of  the  city  to  meet  his  son  Moham 
med,  who  had  been  appointed  governor  of  Tarudant,  and  who 
having  reason  to  fear  that  his  life  was  in  danger,  had  resisted  all 
efforts  to  bring  him  to  court,  but  who  had  finally  been  captur 
ed  by  a  superior  force,  and  was  coming,  a  prisoner,  in  chains. 
A  large  gang  of  slaves  accompanied  the  imperial  cortege,  bear 
ing  kettles  of  tar  and  faggots  of  wood.  Mohammed  threw 
himself  at  his  father's  feet,  and  besought  his  mercy,  but  the  in 
exorable  despot  ordered  both  feet  to  be  stricken  off,  and  the 
bleeding  stumps  to  be  dipped  into  a  kettle  of  melted  tar. 
Mohammed,  who  had  qualities  of  person  and  mind  that  ren 
dered  him  a  great  favorite  with  the  people,  indignantly  refused 
life  upon  such  terms,  and  tearing  the  bandages  from  his  wounds, 
in  a  few  hours  expired. 

But  jealousy  of  his  elder  children  served  to  turn  with 
additional  force  the  whole  current  of  paternal  affection  upon 
his  youngest.  The  old  man  had  nothing  to  fear  from  him, 
he  could  therefore  afford  to  love  him — he  did  more,  he  doated 
upon  him  with  his  whole  soul. 

As  the  lumbering  gig,  with  its  royal  occupant,  wheeled 
into  the  garden,  a  shout  went  up  from  a  thousand  voices 
that  drowned  the  rude  clangor  of  the  band. 

"God  preserve  sidi !  Long  life  to  our  lord !"  shouted  the 
multitude,  bowing  down  and  kissing  the  earth,  and  striking 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  185 

their  heads  upon  the  ground.  Several  of  the  principal  cour 
tiers  ran,  creeping,  up  to  the  gig,  and  touching  the  shafts  or 
wheels,  carried  their  hands  to  their  lips;  a  few,  more  bold, 
thrust  their  hands  in,  and  touched  the  emperor's  garments. 

The  first  business  was  the  reception  of  the  English  am 
bassador.  The  ceremony  occupied  but  a  few  minutes.  The 
ambassador,  at  the  head  of  his  suite,  presented  himself  in  front 
of  the  gig,  and  making  a  short  and  dignified  speech,  in  which 
he  stated  the  object  of  his  coming — the  freedom  of  English 
slaves  who  had  been  captured  in  contravention  of  existing 
treaties  and  the  furtherance  of  commercial  communications — 
ended  by  offering  a  letter  of  compliment  from  his  master, 
William  III.  The  letter  was  enveloped  in  a  roll  of  silk,  and 
at  a  sign  from  the  soltan,  was  received  by  one  of  the  eunuchs 
of  the  hareem. 

The  soltan,  who  was  habited,  as  we  have  before  seen  him, 
in  a  plain  white  haick  and  an  immense  turban,  replied  in  a 
very  bland  tone,  that  "  the  English  were  a  great  and  a  good 
people,  that  he  had  always  liked  the  English  better  than  any 
other  people,  and  that  he  had  always  favored  them.  That  he 
wished  them  to  come  and  make  trade  in  his  ports ;  and  that 
everything  that  the  King  of  England  wished,  in  relation  to 
slaves  or  to  commerce,  should  be  attended  to  at  once  by  his 
ministers." 

Slaves  bearing  a  portion  of  the  presents,  consisting  of 
broadcloths,  cutlery,  porcelain,  glassware,  candles,  and  other 
articles  of  English  manufacture,  advanced  with  their  burdens, 
and  with  a  careless  glance  from  the  soltan,  were  ordered  off 
to  one  of  the  numerous  kobahs,  or  storehouses,  contained  in 


186  THE     BERBER. 

the  palace.  The  soltan  gave  orders  that  a  horse  should  be 
presented  to  the  ambassador,  and  that  the  Christians  should 
be  allowed  to  visit  the  principal  courts  and  apartments  of  the 
palace.  The  happy  envoy,  with  his  suite,  bowed  his  adieu,  and 
retired,  congratulating  himself  upon  the  probabilities  of  a  suc 
cessful  termination  to  his  mission,  and  little  dreaming  of  the 
delays,  the  extortions,  the  falsehoods,  the  miserable  intrigues 
that  would  try  his  patience  for  weeks  and  months,  and  perhaps 
defeat  the  consummation  of  the  soltan's  promises  entirely. 

Several  bashaws,  from  the  distant  provinces  of  Tafilet  and 
Soos,  now  presented  themselves  in  succession,  and  after  a  few 
questions  from  the  soltan,  were  referred  to  the  prime  minister, 
Iben  Soului,  a  withered  old  man  who  sat  upon  the  ground,  a 
little  apart — pen  and  inkhorn  in  hand,  and  with  the  archives  of 
his  office  rolled  in  a  silk  handkerchief  by  his  side. 

Upon  a  sign  from  the  soltan,  two  Jews  advanced  crouching 
and  creeping  along  the  ground  in  the  most  humble  and  depre 
cating  attitude.  They  were  the  wealthiest  and  most  influen 
tial  of  their  tribe  in  Morocco,  but  for  a  long  time  they  had 
been  deadly  enemies,  and  at  last  one  of  them,  named  Ben 
Hattar,  had  carried  his  animosity  so  far  as  to  offer  to  purchase 
his  enemy  from  the  soltan  for  a  large  sum.  It  was  no  uncom 
mon  thing  in  Morocco,  in  the  days  of  our  story,  for  the  soltan, 
instead  of  "  squeezing  "  a  man  suspected  of  wealth,  himself,  to 
sell  him  out  to  some  enterprising  speculator,  who  thus  acquir 
ed  the  right  of  tormenting  his  captive  until  he  disclosed  his 
hoards.  The  "  bought  man "  was  beaten,  burned  with  hot 
irons,  and  hung  up  by  the  feet,  until  he  disgorged  enough  to 
pay  the  price  that  his  buyer  had  given,  and  a  fair  profit  on  the 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  1ST 

investment.  The  reader  will  be  disposed  to  admit  that  if  the 
spirit  of  speculation  has,  in  the  present  day,  attained  a  greater 
degree  of  refinement  in  its  modes  of  operations,  it  does  not 
surpass  the  old  Maroquien  methods  in  directness  and  boldness. 

In  the  case  of  Ben  Hattar,  the  soltan  at  once  accepted  the 
offer,  and  the  money  was  paid.  But  sending  for  Benshemole, 
he  informed  him  of  the  bargain  that  had  been  made. 

"  I  will  give  twice  the  sum  for  him,"  cried  Benshemole. 

"  Send  it  to  the  treasurer,  and  appear  at  the  meshourah  to 
morrow,"  replied  the  soltan  ;  and  in  obedience  to  this  order 
the  two  rivals  and  enemies  were  now  before  him. 

The  eyes  of  Muley  Ismael  twinkled  with  an  expression 
of  malicious  fun,  and  for  a  few  minutes  he  looked  at  the 
crouching  Jews  without  speaking. 

Breaking  silence,  he,  in  a  very  good  humored  tone,  re 
proached  them  for  their  mutual  folly — thanked  them  ironically 
for  letting  him  know  how  much  each  thought  the  other  worth — 
told  them  that  he  should  keep  the  sums  they  had  offered,  but 
that  he  could  not  think  of  committing  the  injustice  of  allow 
ing  Ben  Hatter  to  be  rated  at  a  less  value  than  Benshemole, 
and  that  the  former  must  at  once  double  the  sum  he  had 
already  paid. 

"  And  now,  most  worthy  children  of  the  Holy  Prophet  Abra 
ham,"  continued  the  soltan,  "  embrace  each  other,  and  be  friends !" 

Struck  with  the  exceeding  folly  of  their  enmity,  the  rivals 
obeyed  the  order  and  embraced,  thus  commencing  a  friendship 
which  was  soon  cemented  by  the  marriage  of  Benshemole  to 
the  daughter  of  Ben  Hattar.  The  soltan  threw  himself  back 
in  his  gig,  and  fairly  grinned  with  delight,  upon  which  a  low 
murmur  of  applause  ran  round  the  court. 


188  THE     BERBER. 

A  burly,  truculent-looking  Moor,  taking  advantage  of  the 
soltan's  good  humor,  stepped  out  from  the  crowd,  and  placing 
his  hand  upon  his  heart,  advanced  towards  the  gig.  "  God 
preserve  our  lord!"  he  exclaimed.  "Long  life  to  the  just 
sidi !  Health  to  the  merciful  sidi !  Happiness  to  the  wise 
sidi !  Who  can  speak  of  the  justice  of  our  lord  1  It  fills  the 
heart,  but  it  seals  the  lips.  The  justice  of  Allah  is  the  justice 
of  sidi !" 

A  scowl  settled  upon  the  face  of  the  soltan — and  leaning 
forward,  he  addressed  the  presumptuous  sycophant  in  a  sub 
dued  tone,  that  to  the  old  courtiers  foreboded  a  spring  of  the 
tiger. 

"And  how  know  you  aught  of  the  justice  of  the  soltan?" 
he  demanded. 

"  Is  it  not  famed,"  replied  the  Moor,  "  from  Tangier  to  Tim- 
buctoo  ?  Is  not  the  world  filled  with  it  1  Is  not  crime  extir 
pated  from  the  country  1  And  is  not  robbery  unknown  ? 
Could  not  a  woman  ride  from  one  end  of  the  land  to  the 
other,  with  a  purse  of  gold  in  her  lap,  and  no  one  dare  to 
molest  her  1  'Twas  but  three  days  since  that  I  was  coming 
from  Tituan — a  bag  of  walnuts  lay  by  the  road  side,  but  no 
traveller  dared  disturb  it." 

"  How  did  you  know  that  it  was  a  bag  of  walnuts  ? "  in 
terposed  the  soltan. 

"  I  dismounted  from  my  horse,  and  touched  it  with  my 
foot,"  replied  the  Moor. 

"  Which  foot,"  demanded  the  soltan,  in  a  tone  that  sent  a 
shudder  through  the  crowd,  and  made  even  the  rash  and  pre 
sumptuous  flatterer  tremble. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  189 

The  Moor  saw,  when  too  late,  that  he  had  ventured  within 
the  tiger's  clutch.  His  voice  faltered,  and  in  silence  he  pointed 
to  his  left  foot. 

"  Strike  off  the  foot  that  has  dared  to  touch  a  bag  of  walnuts 
left  without  an  owner  by  a  roadside  in  my  empire,"  roared  the 
soltan ;  and  hardly  had  the  command  left  his  mouth,  when  the 
Moor  was  seized  by  the  executioners — his  leg  thrown  over  a 
block  of  wood,  and  stricken  off  with  a  single  blow.  A  plaster 
of  hot  pitch  stopped  the  hemorrhage,  and  with  a  feeling  of  re 
signation  to  the  orderings  of  Providence,  common  to  the  Moors, 
but  which  the  most  devout  Christian  seldom  attains — the  un 
lucky  courtier  left  the  garden,  to  be  in  a  few  days  called 
again  to  court,  received  into  favor,  and  sent  as  bashaw,  in  all 
honor,  to  a  distant  province.* 

At  this  moment  some  commotion  was  excited  at  the  great 
gate  of  the  garden,  and  the  next  instant,  the  rover  Hassan 
Herach  and  Hammed  ben  Slowek,  kaid  of  the  slaves,  rushed 
in,  forcing  their  way  through  the  crowd  into  the  clear  space 
in  front  of  the  soltan.  Etiquette  required  them  to  pause  at  a 
considerable  distance,  and  await  the  bidding  of  the  emperor, 
but  in  their  hurry  and  excitement  they  pressed  up  consider 
ably  within  the  prescribed  limits.  The  gloomy  scowl  that 
hung  upon  the  visage  of  Muley  Ishmael  grew  still  deeper  as  he 
scanned  for  a  moment  the  two  figures  before  him. 

At  length  he  signed  for  the  kaid  to  advance.     The  rais 

*  It  is  perhaps  necessary  to  repeat  the  assurance,  that  in  relation  to  the 
incidents  in  which  Muley  Ismael  is  concerned,  no  invention,  on  the  part  of 
the  author,  has  been  called  for  or  indulged  hi. 


190  THE     BERBER. 

took  a  step  forward  also,  but  the  royal  scowl  grew  darker, 
and  he  saw  that  it  would  be  death  to  persist.  Inwardly  chaf 
ing  with  rage  and  vexation,  Hassan  was  compelled  to  draw 
himself  up  calmly,  and,  folding  his  hands  upon  his  breast, 
await  an  opportunity  to  speak. 

Destiny,  however,  seemed  to  threaten  that  no  opportunity 
should  be  afforded  him,  for  as  Hammed  told  his  story,  the  brow 
of  the  soltan  grew  more  corrugated,  and  his  lips  more  com 
pressed.  The  kaid  spoke  in  a  low  tone,  and  with  a  rapidity  and 
energy  that  showed  him  resolved  to  improve  to  the  utmost 
the  advantage  of  being  first  in  the  field.  A  feeling  of  lofty 
and  indignant  scorn  swelled  the  young  man's  heart  almost  to 
bursting,  as  he  watched  the  impression  which  the  story  of  the 
wily  kaid  was  making  upon  the  mind  of  the  monarch.  He 
could  not  hear  what  his  antagonist  was  saying  ;  but  he  mark 
ed  its  effect,  and  for  an  instant  he  was  about  to  dart  forward, 
denounce  the  kaid  as  a  liar,  and  fell  him  to  the  earth.  "  But 
prudence,"  he  muttered  to  himself,  "  for  her  sake !"  and  clench 
ing  his  teeth  he  restrained  the  impulse. 

But  darker  grew  the  royal  scowl,  until  raising  his  hand  for 
the  kaid  to  cease,  the  soltan  pointed  to  the  young  rais,  and 
exclaimed,  "  Bind  him  !  beat  the  life  out  of  him  !  A  thousand 
blows  of  the  bastinado !" 

Hassan  hesitated  no  longer.  As  the  negro  executioners 
advanced  upon  him  he  darted  to  the  side  of  the  gig,  exclaim 
ing  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Justice,  sidi !  In  the  name  of  Allah,  jus 
tice  !  I  demand  a  hearing  !" 

The  soltan  remained  immovable,  and  the  negroes  rush- 
ing  upon  Hassan,  began  to  drag  him  away,  when  suddenly 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  191 

exerting  the  whole  force  of  his  powerful  frame  he  tore  himself 
from  their  grasp,  and  sprang  back  to  the  soltan. 

"  Justice,  sidi !"  he  cried ;  "if  not  in  the  name  of  Allah,  in 
the  name  of  this  child."  And  the  rais  seized  hold  of  the  gar 
ments  of  the  young  prince,  who  was  leaning  over  the  front  of 
the  gig. 

The  guards  paused — the  child  turned,  feeling  the  pull  on 
Ins  clothes,  when  seeing  Hassan's  hand  extended  towards  the 
soltan,  with  a  shout  of  pleasure  he  sprang  into  his  arms.  Has 
san  pressed  the  boy  to  his  breast,  and  kissed  him  repeatedly 
on  his  brow  and  cheeks. 

The  father  half  raised  himself  from  his  seat,  and  uttered 
a  slight  cry  of  terror — the  next  moment  he  calmly  resumed 
his  position,  and  signed  to  the  executioners  to  retire. 

"Put  the  child  back,"  he  exclaimed;  "were  you  the 
greatest  traitor,  he  has  saved  your  life." 

Hassan  obeyed  the  order,  but  the  boy  clung  to  his  hand, 
and  would  not  let  him  withdraw  it. 

"Speak!"  said  the  soltan;  "what  have  you  to  say  to  the 
charges  of  our  servant,  the  kaid  ?  Who  are  you  ?" 

"  I  am  Hassan  Herach  !" 

"What !  he  whom  men  call  the  rais  el  rais— the  captain  of 
captains— the  broom  of  the  seas'?"  exclaimed  the  soltan. 

"The  same ;  and  well  may  I  boast  of  the  number  of  your 
enemies  that  I  have  swept  from  the  ocean." 

"  Ha  !"  cried  the  soltan,  turning  with  a  scowling  brow  to 
the  kaid  on  the  other  side  of  the  gig,  "  I  knew  not  this— but 
go  on— we  were  too  hasty—we  will  hear  your  whole  story." 

It  may  be  supposed  that  Hassan  did  not  fail  to  improve 


192  THE     BERBER. 

the  permission.  Rapidly  and  clearly  he  enumerated  his  great 
services — described  his  recent  capture — explained  the  grounds 
of  his  quarrel  with  the  kaid,  and  apologized  for  any  apparent 
disrespect  to  the  letter  of  the  imperial  order.  The  soltan  lis 
tened  with  attention,  and  when  the  kaid  interposed  some  ob 
jection,  sternly  ordered  him  to  withdraw  from  the  court.  The 
crest-fallen  kaid  was  too  wise  to  risk  another  command,  and 
with  it  an  explosion  of  imperial  wrath,  and  gladly  slunk  away 
to  await  a  more  propitious  moment  for  his  intrigues. 

"  Your  services  have  been  great,  my  son,"  said  the  soltan, 
"  and  for  your  offence  in  refusing  to  deliver  your  captives,  ex 
cept  into  our  own  hands,  we  pardon  you.  But  you  raised  your 
hand  against  a  saint,  and  for  that  you  must  be  punished.  I 
shall  fine  you  a  hundred  metcals — but,  inasmuch  as  the  kaid, 
though  a  saint,  is  a  great  liar,  you  need  not  pay  him — you 
may  send  the  money  to  my  treasurer." 

"  Permit  me,  said  the  rais,  to  make  my  saviour  here  a 
treasurer  for  this  purpose ;"  and  drawing  a  purse  from  his  gir 
dle,  containing  four  or  five  times  the  amount  of  the  fine,  he 
placed  it  in  the  lap  of  the  young  prince. 

The  soltan  extended  his  hand,  and  as  the  rais  was  about 
to  kiss  the  back  of  it,  Muley  Ismael  turned  it  so  that  his  lips 
might  touch  the  palm — a  mark  of  the  greatest  condescension 
and  favor. 

The  soltan  waved  his  hand — the  gig  was  put  in  motion — 
the  band  struck  up — a  few  muskets  were  fired  by  the  guards — 
shouts  of  "  Long  life  to  sidi !"  rent  the  air — and  the  crowd 
began  to  pour  out  of  the  great  gates  into  the  exterior  courts 
The  meshourah  was  at  an  end. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  193 

As  the  emperor  disappeared  through  the  arches  of  an  inner 
court  he  took  off  his  haick  and  sent  it  by  an  officer  of  distinc 
tion  to  the  rais.  The  present  was  esteemed  by  the  crowd  as 
a  most  striking  mark  of  favor,  and  congratulations  were  show 
ered  upon  the  young  man  from  all  sides.  Hassan,  however, 
was  not  to  be  deceived ;  he  knew  what  the  favor  of  Muley  Is- 
mael  was  worth,  especially  with  an  enemy  like  the  kaid  working 
against  him,  and  he  felt  more  elated  at  the  temporary  defeat  of 
the  designs  of  his  enemy,  in  relation  to  the  sisters,  than  at  any 
probability  of  future  influence  at  court. 

The  courtiers  too, who  congratulated  him,  knew  what  the  fa 
vor  of  the  jealous  and  capricious  tyrant  was  worth,  and  by  what 
a  precarious  tenure  office,  property,  and  even  life  itself  were  held 
by  his  favorites ;  but  there  were  not  wanting  some  among 
them  who  were  almost  bursting  with  envy  when  they  saw  the 
empty  honor  of  the  imperial  haick  offered  to  the  rais.  Verily, 
it  is  not  alone  in  Christian  countries  that  the  love  of  place, 
power,  and  position — the  groveling  ambition  of  unearned  and 
undeserved  political  and  social  distinction — the  spirit  of  lying, 
flattering,  sycophantic  flunkyism,  is  stronger  than  self-respect, 
pride  of  character,  honesty,  charity,  or  even  the  fear  of  death. 
It  is  almost  as  bad  among  the  Moors. 


194  THEBERBER. 


CHAPTER    XVI 


"  PRAISE  be  to  Allah !"  exclaimed  Abdallah,  drawing  the 
rais  into  his  private  room  in  one  of  the  kobahs. 

"  That  was  a  lucky  thought  of  yours,  that  of  the  child — and 
bravely  was  it  done;  a  moment's  faltering  would  have  cost  you 
your  life  !  But  what  now  1 — you  have  unhorsed  the  kaid  for 
a  time,  but  he  is  not  dead  yet — and  recollect  you  not  the  words 
of  the  poet, '  the  favor  of  princes  is  like  the  thistle  down — 
'tis  blown  about  by  the  winds,  and  where  it  lighteth  it  pro- 
duceth  thorns  ? '  " 

"  True,  O  most  excellent  friend,"  exclaimed  the  rais,  "  but  I 
mean  to  await  not  the  change  of  the  wind,  or  the  germinating 
of  the  weed.  *  The  wild  horse  of  occasion  must  be  seized  by 
the  mane,'  says  the  poet,  '  and  ridden  without  bit  or  bridle.  He 
who  waits  to  tighten  the  saddle  girths  of  opportunity  loses 
the  race.'  ': 

"  But  what  are  your  plans  *?"  demanded  Abdallah. 

"  To  dispatch  the  two  Spaniards  and  my  brother  as  soon  as 
possible  to  the  Kassar  of  the  Berber  Amekran,  Casbin  Subah, 
where  they  can  await  in  safety  the  turn  of  events." 

"  'Twill  be  impossible  to  do  that  for  several  days,"  replied 
Abdallah;  "you  must  communicate  with  the  Berber  chief, 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  195 

and  we  must  devise  some  plan  for  getting  the  Gaditanas  out 
of  the  city  without  being  observed.  No  one,  I  think,  knows 
where  they  are  at  present ;  if  you  should  undertake  to  start 
with  them  at  once,  you  would  most  assuredly  inform  the 
whole  city." 

The  rais  mused  for  a  moment — "  What  is  your  advice  ?" 
he  demanded. 

"  My  advice  is,"  replied  Abdallah,  "  that  you  hire  some 
vacant  house  and  move  into  it,  and  there  keep  your  brother 
closely  concealed.  It  is  essential  that  he  leave  my  house,  for 
already  there  is  much  talk  among  the  neighbors.  As  to  the 
Spanish  maidens,  you  can  leave  them  for  a  few  days  in  per 
fect  safety,  where  they  are.  I  will  see  that  they  are  supplied 
with  food,  and  that  no  one  intrudes  on  their  privacy.  To 
avoid  suspicion,  you  must  not  be  seen  entering  their  house 
too  often." 

Acting  upon  this  advice,  the  rais  with  his  faithful  Selim, 
followed  by  the  sailors  of  the  galley,  made  his  way  through 
the  crowd  that  thronged  around  to  catch  a  sight  of  the  fa 
mous  rover.  As  soon  as  it  was  known  that  he  wanted  a  house, 
a  hundred  were  offered  to  him,  and  from  among  them  he  select 
ed  the  smallest — a  little  building  twenty  feet  square,  and  one 
story  in  height — because  it  afforded  him  an  excuse  for  sending 
his  men  to  lodge  at  a  fondac  or  inn,  and  because  it  was  situ 
ated  but  three  or  four  squares  from  the  house  that  contained 
his  captives. 

A  Moorish  house  of  the  common  class  requires  but  lit 
tle  time  or  expense  in  fitting  up  and  furnishing.  A  thick  rug 
or  carpet,  a  few  leather  cushions  stuffed  with  wool,  a  table 


196  THE    BERBER. 

standing  about  a  foot  high  from  the  floor,  a  portable  furnace 
for  charcoal,  a  few  cooking  utensils,  and  in  half  an  hour  the 
house  was  complete. 

The  rest  of  the  day  the  rais  occupied  himself  in  looking 
after  the  comfort,  and  alleviating,  as  far  as  possible,  the  mi 
sery  of  his  male  captives,,  who  arrived,  fatigued  and  hungry, 
in  charge  of  the  lieutenant  kaid  of  the  slaves.  The  Moors  were 
for  putting  them  at  once  to  work  upon  the  palace  walls,  but 
the  rais  insisted  that  they  should  have  at  least  one  day  to 
recruit  their  strength. 

At  night  Edward  left  the  house  of  Abdallah,  and  draw 
ing  his  haick  closely  around  his  face,  followed  Selim  to  the 
house  of  the  rais.  The  brothers  met  again  with  many  ex 
pressions  of  true,  heartfelt  delight.  But,  notwithstanding  the 
strong  fraternal  affection  that  had  rapidly  developed  itself, 
and  the  many  subjects  of  interest  between  them,  the  change 
from  the  spacious  courts  and  lofty  rooms  of  the  house  of  the 
kaid  to  the  dark  and  straitened  apartments  of  his  new  resi 
dence  struck  Edward  as  extremely  unpleasant.  Perhaps  had 
Xaripha  accompanied  him  the  difference  would  not  have  been 
so  perceptible,  or,  it  may  be,  would  have  entirely  disappear 
ed — such  power  has  the  electro-magnetism  of  love  to  over 
lay  with  leaves  of  fine  gold  the  commonest  and  meanest 
things  of  life. 

And  Xaripha — she  too  felt  as  if  the  light  of  the  sun  had 
grown  dim,  as  if  nature  had  become  suddenly  overcast ;  the 
shadow  that  enveloped  her  soul  was  projected  upon  all  crea 
tion,  and  she  no  longer  paced  the  terrace  with  an  elastic  step, 
her  imagination  glowing  with  the  traditionary  recollections  of 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  197 

Andalusia.  She  no  longer  strained  her  eyes  in  the  direction 
of  the  hills  of  Grenada.  Her  embroidery  was  thrown  aside  ; 
her  guitar  was  neglected,  and  her  sole  occupation  was  to  sit 
and  sigh  and  count  the  moments  to  the  time  when  she  might 
hope  for  a  promised  visit  from  her  lover.  Let  not  the  mai 
dens  of  Christian  lands,  who  have  a  thousand  resources  in 
books,  in  dress  and  in  society,  think  contemptuously  of  the 
lovely,  loving  and  lonely  Maroquien. 

Every  motion  of  Xaripha  was  watched  by  her  nurse,  Fati- 
ma  Laboo,  with  the  most  intense  interest.  The  greater  part 
of  the  day  the  old  negress  rolled  about  on  the  terrace,  with  no 
thing  but  a  scanty  garment  of  cotton  to  protect  her  from  the 
hot  sun,  and  peered  through  the  ballustrade  down  into  the 
gallery  where  Xaripha  sat,  occasionally  giving  vent,  in  low 
mutterings,  to  her  indignation  at  the  supposed  cause  of  Xa- 
ripha's  change  of  spirits. 

"  Yah,  I  wish  he  come  again,  I  make  him  fetish  for  him. 
I  give  him  dish  kill  ten  devils.  Yah,  I  think  he  make  little 
'Ripha  feel  bad.  If  he  don't,  what  he  gone  away  for  ?  She 
won't  say  a  word — perhaps  her  father  make  her  feel  bad. 
Yah !  I  wish  I  know.  By  Prophet  Mohammed,  I  make  him 
Obi  dish  too.  Yah  !  yah !" 

One  subject  of  interest,  besides  her  lover,  occupied  a  por 
tion  of  Xaripha's  thoughts.  She  knew  that  the  Spanish  sisters 
were  secreted  in  the  adjoining  dwelling,  and  pity  for  their 
hard  fate,  mingled  with  curiosity  to  see  the  object  of  Edward's 
former  gallantry,  urged  her  to  visit  them.  The  proposition 
however,  was  met  by  a  decided  prohibition  from  her  father. 

"  It  will  endanger  our  lives,"  he  replied.     "  Recollect  that 


198  THE     BERBER. 

our  every  movement  is  jealously  watched.  Let  attention  be 
at  once  attracted  to  the  house,  and  all  will  be  discovered. 
The  rais  and  I  have  laid  our  plans  to  get  off  to  the  kassar 
of  his  friend,  the  chief  of  the  Mozarg,  from  whence  we  can 
pass  along  the  range  of  hills  to  the  coast  at  Tituan,  and 
thence  across  the  straits  to  Spain.  But  if  anything  goes 
wrong  our  lives  will  not  be  worth  a  cripple's  ransom." 

Prohibited  from  visiting  the  sisters,  Xaripha's  curiosity 
increased  until  it  exercised  her  mind  almost  as  much  as  did 
the  recollection  of  Edward.  Her  active  imagination  invested 
them  with  every  hue  of  beauty,  and  she  could  not  refrain 
from  mounting  the  terrace,  and  trying  to  catch  a  glimpse 
over  the  high  battlements,  into  the  adjoining  house. 

Xaripha's  movements  were  closely  watched  by  Fatima 
Laboo,  who,  with  her  muttered  exclamations  and  objurgations, 
was  forever  waddling  about  the  gallery  and  terraces,  in  the 
effort  to  keep  Xaripha's  face  in  sight. 

At  one  angle  of  the  house  was  situated  a  small  turret  or 
tower,  covering  the  narrow  staircase  that  opened  upon  the  flat 
roof.  It  was  this  tower  that  obstructed  the  view  of  the 
court  of  the  adjoining  house.  Xaripha  looked  up  at  it  with  a 
wistful  eye.  She  could  almost  touch  the  serrated  eaves — a  lad 
der  of  half  a  dozen  rounds  would  have  enabled  her  to  reach 
the  top  !  Again  and  again  did  the  young  girl  mount  to  the 
terrace,  and  examine  with  curious  eyes  the  envious  turret  that 
prevented  her  from  opening  a  communication  with  the  sisters, 
while  closely  her  motions  were  watched  by  Fatima,  who, 
satisfied  that  something  was  wrong,  puzzled  herself  in  vain 
conjectures  as  to  the  cause  of  her  mistress'  taciturnity  and 
restlessness. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  199 

It  was  the  third  day  after  the  departure  of  Edward  that,  in 
mounting  the  staircase,  Xaripha's  attention  was  directed  to 
two  or  three  small  slits,  like  loop  holes  for  musketry,  high  up  in 
the  wall  of  the  turret,  and  corresponding  to  similar  ones  made 
over  the  door  opening  on  the  terrace.  In  an  instant  it  flashed 
upon  the  young  girl  that  she  could  at  least  reach  those  open 
ings,  and  that  they  must  command  nearly  as  good  a  view  of 
the  court  below  as  could  be  had  from  the  top  of  the  tower. 
She  could  not  resist  the  impulse,  and,  flying  down  stairs,  re 
turned  with  a  light  reed  work  table,  which  she  placed  beneath 
the  loop  holes.  Two  or  three  leather  cushions  were  added,  and 
Xaripha  sprang  upon  them  and  placed  her  eye  to  the  opening. 

The  narrow  patio  of  the  adjoining  house  lay  directly  be 
neath  her — Xaripha  glanced  down  into  it.  She  started — her 
cheek  grew  deadly  pale — she  tottered  and  almost  fell  from  her 
position,  but  recovering  herself,  she  again  looked  through  the 
opening,  and  as  she  looked  the  color  came  to  her  brow  and 
cheek — redder,  deeper,  fiercer  it  burned — while  her  large  black 
eyes  glowed  like  those  of  a  maddened  tigress.  Again  the  blood 
forsook  her  face — a  shudder  ran  through  her  frame,  and  spring 
ing  to  the  floor,  with  a  moan  of  anguish  she  clutched  her  float 
ing  hair,  and  pressed  her  hands  to  her  eyes,  as  if  to  shut  out 
some  dreadful  vision. 

The  old  negress,  who  had  been  watching  her  through  the 
open  door  from  an  angle  of  the  terrace,  rushed  in  with  a  tor 
rent  of  exclamations  and  inquiries,  but  Xaripha  heeded  her 
not.  Her  only  reply  was  a  few  hysterical  sobs  and  moans, 
and  then  pushing  the  old  woman  fiercely  aside,  the  maiden 
flew  down  the  stairs,  and  rushing  across  the  gallery,  threw 
herself,  with  a  passionate  groan,  upon  her  couch. 


200  THE     BERBER. 

Fatima  recovered  her  balance  with  difficulty,  and,  for  a 
few  moments,  stood  stupidly  see-sawing  and  shaking  her  head 
and  uttering  her  usual  exclamations  of  yah,  yah !  yah,  yah ! 
At  length  her  ideas  seemed  to  return  to  her. 

"  I'll  see  what  it  is  makes  little  'Ripha  so  bad  here,"  mut 
tered  the  old  woman,  as  she  put  her  finger  to  her  head,  and 
turned  to  the  table  and  cushions  upon  which  Xaripha  had 
stood.  "  But  suppose  'tis  a  djin  lives  in  that  hole !  I  don't 
care,  he  can't  hurt  me.  I  got  marabout  charm  and  Bambara 
fetish.  You  come  out  of  that  hole,  mister  djin,  I  know;"  and 
deliberately  climbing  upon  the  table,  which  bent  beneath  her 
weight,  she  drew  herself  up  to  the  loop-hole. 

The  sight  that  met  Fatima's  eyes  startled  her  at  first  al 
most  as  much  as  it  had  Xaripha.  In  an  instant  she  felt  that 
she  had  obtained  the  key  to  everything  in  Xaripha's  conduct 
that  had  puzzled  her.  Of  all  the  components,  primary  and 
secondary,  that  ever  enter  into  the  composition  of  the  passion 
of  love,  the  sentiment  of  jealousy  is  the  most  easily  compre 
hended,  especially  by  the  unrefined  and  unintellectual;  and  to 
the  old  woman's  mind  the  whole  mystery  was  solved. 

In  the  court,  beneath  the  eye  of  the  old  negress,  stood  Isa 
bel  de  Estivan ;  and,  with  his  arm  thrown  tenderly  around 
her  waist,  was  a  young  man  dressed  in  Moorish  garb,  whose 
face,  figure,  attitude  and  action  were  precisely  those  of  Ed 
ward  Carlyle.  One  hand  of  the  maiden  hung  upon  the  shoul 
der  of  the  young  man,  the  other  rested  in  his  grasp,  and  was 
frequently  pressed  to  his  lips. 

Their  conference  was  ended,  and  drawing  the  half-shrink 
ing,  half-yielding  figure  of  the  Spanish  girl  towards  him,  he 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  201 

pressed  her  for  a  moment  to  his  breast,  kissed  her  cheeks, 
and  then  retiring  with  deliberate  gravity,  disappeared  through 
the  skeffa,  or  entrance  room,  into  the  street. 

The  rage  of  Fatima  had  never  before  been  so  excited; 
she  ground  her  teeth — sputtered  a  string  of  unintelligible  ex 
clamations  in  the  negro  dialects  of  Soudan — clenched  her 
hands — gesticulated  furiously — and  stamping  her  feet,  the  frail 
support  gave  way,  and  let  her  down,  heels  over  head,  to  the 
floor.  Of  the  narrow  room,  half  the  space  was  occupied  by 
the  area  of  the  staircase,  and,  unluckily,  as  she  rolled  over, 
her  head  and  shoulders  were  directed  into  the  yawning  de 
scent,  down  which  she  slid  noisily,  thumping  from  stair  to 
stair,  and  shrieking  at  the  top  of  her  lungs,  until  she  landed 
on  the  floor  below. 

The  noise  aroused  Xaripha  from  her  stupor,  and  springing 
from  the  couch  she  flew  to  her  assistance.  But  it  was  Fati- 
ma's  turn  to  sulk  now,  and  rising,  she  rubbed  herself  to  as 
certain  that  her  bones  were  sound  ;  when,  refusing  all  assistance, 
she  waddled  off,  muttering  threats  of  vengeance. 

Xaripha  stood  in  the  gallery,  and  leaning  upon  the  railing 
with  a  vacant  and  pre-occupied  look,  watched  the  old  woman 
as  she  busied  herself — now  in  sharpening  a  large  knife — now 
in  plaiting  a  rope  of  palmetto  fibres — and  now  in  cooking, 
with  sundry  prayers  and  incantations,  some  kind  of  magic 
dish  over  a  furnace  of  glowing  charcoal. 

And  thus  will  we  leave  the  two,  while  we  look  in  at  the 
next  door,  and  see  what  was  passing  at  the  same  moment 
with  the  sisters. 


202  THE     BERBER. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 


"AND  now  that  I  know  from  my  brother's  own  lips 
that  he  loves  another,  I  have  a  right,  senorita,  to  tell  you 
of  thoughts  and  feelings  that  I  have  hitherto  kept  shut  up 
in  my  own  breast." 

The  rover  passed  his  arm  around  the  waist  of  the  unre 
sisting  Gaditana. 

"  You  know  not,  dearest  Isabel !"  continued  the  young  man 
in  a  low  and  quiet  voice,  but  in  that  peculiar  tone  that 
ever  indicates  strong  passion  and  feeling,  subdued  and  chained 
by  energetic  will  — "  You  know  not  the  desperate  need  of  my 
heart ;  you  know  not  the  yearning  of  my  soul  for  a  higher 
spiritual  and  sentimental  intercommunion  than  my  destiny  has 
hitherto  allowed  me  to  hope  for ;  you  know  not  my  isolation 
from  all  around  me — my  disgust  for  the  social  and  domestic 
life  of  this  country — my  untutored  cravings  for  something 
better.  You  know  not  the  longings  my  nature  has  felt,  not  so 
much  to  be  loved — for  that  perhaps  could  have  been  partially 
gratified  by  the  passionate  devotion  of  the  women  of  this 
country — but  to  love.  You  will  let  me  love  you,  Isabel  1" 

"  I  am  no  Moor,  senorita,  except  in  dress  and  everyday 
habits  of  life  and  language — and  truth  to  say,  in  religious  mat- 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  203 

ters  I  am  not  much  of  a  Christian,  but  I  feel  as  teachable  as  a 
child.  We  will  leave  this  land, dearest,  and  you  shall  instruct 
me — you  shall  guide  my  steps  to  the  footstool  of  the  true 
Prophet  of  God.  "  You  would  save  a  soul  from  perdition — 
you  would  save  mine,  Isabel  ?" 

"  To  save  yours,"  exclaimed  Isabel,  "  I  would  endanger  my 
own." 

"  And  not  my  soul  only,  but  my  heart  too — you  will  not 
allow  it  to  wither  and  decay  1  Hast  ever  heard,  senorita.  that 
the  vine  will  live  and  grow,  but  without  fruit,  in  the  desert, 
until  water  is  brought  near  it,  when  at  once  it  makes  the  most 
desperate  efforts  to  reach  the  fountain,  and  if  it  fails,  it  sudden 
ly  withers  and  dies  1  You  are  the  fountain  that  has  burst 
forth  in  my  desert;  no  more  for  me  the  arid  sands — my 
heart  must  drink  the  sparkling  waters,  or  it  will  sicken  and 
die.  I  must  love  you — you  must  love  me — for  ever !" 

"  Yes,  for  ever  !"  murmured  Isabel,  as  Hassan  folded  her  to 
his  heart. 

"  But  time  flies,  senorita.  See  !  the  sun  no  longer  gilds  the 
minaret,  and  hark  !  the  muedden  calls  to  prayers.  Your  sister 
is  pacing  the  terrace,  impatient  for  my  departure,  and  I  have 
much  to  do.  I  dare  not  see  you  often — but  sleep  without  fear. 
The  holy  mother  of  your  prophet,  Seedna  Aisa,  will  guard  you 
from  all  evil  spirits,  while,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  I  will  take 
every  precaution  to  secure  you  from  evil  men." 

"  And,  senorita,"  continued  the  rais,  as  he  released  the 
blushing  girl  from  a  last  embrace — "  be  ready  with  your  sister 
to  depart  at  any  instant.  At  present  all  is  safe.  The  kaid 
Hammed  ben  Slowek  knows  not  where  you  are,  and  the  soltan 


204  THE     BERBER. 

is  so  pleased  with  the  acquisition  of  several  Christian  artisans 
and  skilful  workmen,  that  he  thinks  not  of  inquiring  after  my 
female  captives.  But,  thanks  to  the  kaid's  malice,  and  the  sol- 
tan's  jealous  caprice,  this  calm  cannot  last  long,  and  you  must 
hold  yourself  in  readiness  to  depart  at  a  moment's  warning. 
Adieu !" 

"  Adieu  !"  murmured  Isabel ;  and  holding  out  her  hand, 
she  was  about  to  speak — but  changing  her  mind,  she  hesi 
tated — deep  feeling  finds  but  few  words — and  then,  in  pure 
want  of  something  better  to  say,  or  rather,  in  want  of  fitting 
expression  for  something  better  and  stronger,  she  exclaimed : 
"  Go  !  but  do  not  forget  me." 

"  Forget  you  !  light  of  my  soul,"  replied  Hassan,  springing 
back  and  seizing  her  hand  ;  "  impossible  !  You  are  my  sun ! 
like  him  you  may  sink  out  of  sight  for  a  while,  but  my  heart 
is  elevated  so  high  on  the  mountain  peaks  of  hope,  that  'twill 
bathe  all  night  in  the  twilight.  I  shall  count  the  sands  to 
your  rising — they  will  run  slowly — but  I  shall  not  complain, 
since  they  are  dampened  with  the  dew  of  your  kindness. 
Adieu !" 

The  rais  cautiously  opened  the  door,  and  passed  into  the 
street.  Isabel  secured  the  door  by  its  wooden  bolts,  and 
stepped  back  into  the  court,  where  she  was  joined  by  her  sister, 
who  came  flying  down  the  narrow  staircase  leading  to  the 
terrace,  as  if  she  had  wings. 

"  Oh,  sister !  I  have  seen  him !  I  have  seen  him !"  ex 
claimed  Juanita. 

"Who?    Where?"  demanded  Isabel. 

"  Up  there — over  on  the  terrace  of  a  distant  house  " — and 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  205 

the  young  girl's  eyes  flashed  with  delight.  "  He  saw  m$ — he 
waved  his  hand  to  me,  and  then  disappeared.  I  suppose  he 
does  not  like  to  be  seen  long  on  the  terrace.  You  know  the 
Moors  do  not  permit  men  to  go  upon  the  roofs." 

'•  But  who  is  it  you  are  talking  about  1"  again  inquired  the 
elder  sister  of  the  excited  Juanita. 

"  Who  ?  why  the  Berber." 

"  What !  the  mountain  chief  who  saved  you  from  the  kaid  ? 
It  cannot  be." 

"  But  it  is,"  replied  Juanita,  "  did  I  not  see  him  1  Think 
you  that  no  one  has  eyes  for  a  good-looking  gallant  but  your 
self?  I  could  tell  him  among  ten  thousand,  if  he  were  painted 
as  black  as  a  negro." 

"  Would  that  Hassan  knew  of  this,"  exclaimed  Isabel ; 
"  'tis  upon  this  Berber  that  all  our  hopes  hang ;  and  little 
does  the  rais  dream  that  he  is  in  the  city.  Much  I  fear," 
continued  Isabel,  "  that  his  presence  here  endangers  his  own 
liberty,  and  thus  will  diminish  his  power  to  aid  us." 

"  Fear  not,  sister,"  replied  the  younger  maiden ;  "  the  Ber 
ber  is  safe.  Whatever  danger  surrounds  him,  he  can  take  care 
of  himself;  and  we,  too,  are  safer  for  his  presence.  I  no 
longer  have  the  slightest  dread  of  being  shut  up  alone  in 
this  old  house.  I  shall  sleep  soundly  to  night." 

"  Take  care  that  you  do  not  lie  awake,  thinking  of  this 
mysterious  chief,"  said  Isabel. 

Juanita  was  about  to  reply,  but  checked  herself  and  held 
her  breath.  A  low  knocking  was  heard  at  the  door. 

"  'Tis  he !"  exclaimed  Juanita,    starting  and  turning  pale. 

"  Nonsense  !"  replied  Isabel ,  "  it  is  our  neighbor  Abdallah. 


206  THE     BERBER. 

He  comes  to  see  if  our  provisions  are  exhausted.  Get  a 
light,  sister — it  is  growing  so  dark  that  we  shall  need  it — 
while  I  go  and  let  him  in." 

Isabel  went  to  the  door  and  paused  to  listen.  The  knock 
ing  was  repeated,  but  it  was  clearly  from  neither  Abdallah 
nor  the  rais,  both  of  whom  had  concerted  with  the  sisters  sig 
nals  for  admission. 

Some  words  were  spoken  in  a  low  tone.  Isabel  put  her 
ear  to  the  wide  key -hole  of  the  ill-fitting,  roughly  made  door, 
and  recognized  at  once  the  familiar  voice  of  Don  Diego. 

"  '  Tis  I,  Isabel,  your  cousin  Orsolo.  I  know  that  you  are 
here.  Let  me  in  quickly  for  God's  sake,  before  I  am  seen 
by  the  people  of  the  street.  I  have  much  to  say  to  you. 
Cousin  Isabel,  cousin  Juanita,  open  the  door." 

Isabel  hesitated  for  a  moment,  but  he  was  a  countryman 
and  a  relative,  and  she  drew  back  the  bolts  and  opened  the 
door.  The  tall,  stiff  figure  of  Don  Diego,  clothed  in  the 
dirty  rags  of  an  old  Moorish  garment,  stalked  in.  His  arms 
were  at  once  opened,  but  Isabel,  shrinking  back,  escaped  the 
intended  embrace.  Merely  touching  his  hand,  she  glided 
across  the  court,  followed  by  the  don,  into  a  long,  narrow, 
but  lofty  room,  occupying  the  whole  height  of  the  building, 
which  Juanita  had  succeeded  in  dimly  lighting  by  means  of 
a  wick  of  twisted  linen  placed  in  one  corner  of  a  square  metal 
lic  cup  filled  with  olive  oil. 

Towards  Juanita  the  don  attempted  a  more  playful  de 
monstration  of  affection ;  but,  with  a  repelling  shudder,  the 
maiden  eluded  his  grasp,  and  darted  through  the  door-way 
into  the  court.  Don  Diego  threw  himself,  with  a  gloomy 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  207 

look,  upon  the  cushions  of  an  old  divan,  and  remained  for  a 
few  moments  without  saying  a  word. 

"  And  so,"  he  said,  suddenly  directing  a  piercing  gaze  at 
Isabel,  "methinks,  sweet  cousin,  you  greet  not  over  kindly 
your  humble  relative.  Isabel,  you  hate  me." 

There  was  something  so  harsh  in  his  tones,  so  abrupt  in 
his  manner,  that  Isabel  for  a  moment  was  unable  to  reply. 
The  image  of  Don  Diego,  the  stern,  unyielding  and  ungene 
rous  kinsman  of  Cadiz,  rushed  upon  her  mind,  and  drove  back 
the  tide  of  friendly  emotion  that  was  flowing  over  her  heart. 
It  was  with  a  slight  degree  of  acerbity  intermingling  with  the 
naturally  tender  tones  of  her  voice  that  she  replied, 

"  Indeed,  cousin,  do  not  say  that ;  what  but  friendly  feeling 
could  have  prompted  me  to  address  you  the  other  morning, 
when  I  might  so  easily  have  passed  you  without  speaking  ]" 

"  True,  that  was  a  friendly  impulse,  and  I  thank  you  for  it. 
'Twas  lucky  indeed — and  luckily,  I  had  the  wit  to  improve  it.  by 
sending  a  begging  renegado  to  follow  your  footsteps.  But 
come,  my  sweet  cousin,  tell  me  the  story  of  your  adventures. 
Explain  by  what  sad  mischance  the  rose  of  the  Guadalete  has 
been  transferred  to  the  banks  of  the  Ordorm."  • 

Isabel  rapidly  ran  over  the  principal  events  that  had  occur 
red  since  the  departure  of  Don  Diego  from  Cadiz.  Her  father's 
appointment  to  office — the  embarkation — the  attack  of  the 
Moors — her  father's  death,  and  the  prominent  circumstances 
since  landing  at  Salee,  that  had  resulted  in  placing  her  in  the 
position  of  the  moment. 

Orsolo  listened  with  a  scowling  brow,  and  in  silence, 
until  Isabel  paused. 


208  THE     BEKBER. 

"And  so,"  he  exclaimed  in  a  sneering  tone,  while  an  affect 
ed  smile  distorted  his  sinister  visage ;  "  your  English  friend 
did  not  drown  himself,  as  we  supposed." 

Isabel  felt  that  she  had  done  wrong  to  say  a  word  in  rela 
tion  to  Edward,  and  she  stood  without  reply.  But  Orsolo  fol 
lowed  up  his  remark  with  so  many  questions,  and  pressed  her 
so  closely,  that  she  was  compelled  to  admit  that  not  only  was 
he  alive,  but  that  hitherto  he  had  escaped  the  chains  of  the 
slave,  and  that  he  was  now  concealed  in  Mequinez. 

"  And  he  expects  to  escape,  and  you — are  to  accompany 
him  1"  exclaimed  Orsolo,  thrusting  his  hand  into  his  breast,  as 
if  clutching  a  dagger.  The  diabolical  scowl  upon  his  face  made 
Isabel  start  back  with  fright — she  looked  out  into  the  court — 
the  figure  of  Juanita,  pacing  the  opposite  terrace,  somewhat 
reassured  her. 

"  The  English  dog !  the  cursed  heretic !"  exclaimed  Orsolo, 
rising  to  his  feet ;  "  but  I  need  not  speak  of  him,"  he  continued, 
suddenly  suppressing  every  appearance  of  passion,  and  assum 
ing  a  bland  and  gentle  manner.  "  I  need  not  speak  of  him — he 
can  do  nothing  for  you  here.  No  more  can  this  brother  of  his — 
this  vile  pirate,  this  perfidious  infidel — and  no  more  can  you 
trust  yourself  with  this  Abdallah.  Isabel,you  are  lost — I  alone 
can  save  you — I  will  do  so — you  shall  return  with  me  to  Spain. 
Harken  to  me  !  The  terms  of  my  ransom  are  settled.  From 
this  day  I  am  no  longer  a  slave ;  I  am  detained  until  my  ransom 
arrives,  but  I  am  as  free  to  move  about  the  streets  of  Mequinez, 
were  it  not  for  the  insults  of  the  populace,  as  any  Moor  of  the 
city.  Free  myself,  I  can  have  no  difficulty  in  buying  your 
freedom  and  that  of  your  sister.  I  will  obtain  permission  of 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  209 

the  superior  of  the  Spanish  hospitium  to  remove  you  thither, 
and  believe  me,  Isabel,  I  will  not  leave  this  country  unless 
you  go  with  me." 

"But  to  do  this, Isabel,"  continued  the  don, approaching  her, 
and  endeavoring  to  take  her  hand,  "  it  will  be  necessary  to  call 
you  my  wife.  Nay,  start  not.  It  will  not  be  necessary  to  tell 
an  untruth.  One  of  the  fathers  of  the  hospitium  can  unite  us, 
and  thus  will  be  accomplished  the  design  of  our  families,  and 
the  dearest  wish  of  your  father's  heart." 

"  Indeed,  cousin,  it  cannot  be,"  replied  Isabel  in  a  mourn 
ful  voice,  while  a  slight  shudder  ran  through  her  frame. 

The  don  marked  the  instinctive  shrinking  at  the  proposi 
tion,  and  a  scowl  of  deadly  malice  again  corrugated  his  brow. 

"  It  must  be,  dearest  cousin,  it  must  be  !"  he  replied  ;  "  as 
for  that  cursed  English  hound,  he  is  powerless ;  Isabel,  it 
must  be !" 

"  Never !"  exclaimed  Isabel  energetically.  "  Cousin  Orsolo, 
press  me  no  further — I  never,  never  can  become  your  wife." 

"  Your  liberty  depends  upon  it." 

"  I  shall  die  a  slave  then. " 

"  But  not  alone  liberty — your  life — your  honor.  Think  of 
the  hareem  of  some  brutal  Moor." 

Isabel's  cheek  paled  and  her  frame  shook,  but  she  replied 
in  a  steady  voice,  "  Cousin  Orsolo,  why  will  you  make  me 
despise  and  detest  you  1  'Tis  unkind — cruel  of  you  thus  to 
persecute  me.  Why  offer  me  your  aid  on  terms  that  I  cannot 
accept]  But  I  need  it  not — I  shall  be  saved,  unless  indeed 
you  are  dastard  enough  to  betray  my  residence  here.  Come, 
cousin,  be  generous — press  this  matter  no  further — I  can 
never  become  your  wife." 


210  THE     BERBER. 

"  You  shall,"  hissed  the  don  between  his  clenched  teeth, 
as  he  sprang  forward  and  grasped  the  maiden  by  the  arm. 
"  Girl !  think  you  longer  to  thwart  me  ?  By  heaven  and  all 
the  saints,  you  shall  be  my  wife  ;  right  or  wrong,  fairly  or 
forcibly,  you  shall  be  mine  !  And  your  English  lover  shall 
die ;  shall  die,  girl ;  and  his  carcass  shall  be  thrown  to  the 
dogs  and  the  buzzards  !" 

The  don  roughly  shook  the  terrified  girl.  "  Release  me !" 
she  faintly  cried;  but  he  kept  his  grasp  upon  her  arm,  and 
glared,  with  the  expression  of  an  infuriated  demon,  into  her 
eyes. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  gleam  of  steel,  and  the  don  start 
ed,  and  sprang  back  from  the  point  of  a  dagger  that  was  al 
most  thrust  into  his  face. 

"  What  means  this  1"  exclaimed  Juanita,  placing  herselt 
before  her  trembling  sister.  "  Coward !  vile,  detestable  cow 
ard  !  Think  you  that  we  are  so  powerless,  so  unprotected  ?" 
and  the  young  girl  stepped  forward  with  a  gesture  so  fear 
less  and  energetic  that  Orsolo,  unarmed  as  he  was,  judged 
it  most  prudent  to  retreat  into  the  patio. 

"  Isabel  your  wife  1"  continued  Juanita,  following  him  to 
the  threshold  of  the  door ; "  never — better  mate  with  the  vilest 
infidel  that  walks  the  streets  of  Mequinez." 

"  My  wife  she  shall  be,"  shouted  the  don,  as  he  stalked 
into  the  skefFa,  and  drawing  back  the  bolts  opened  the  street 
door.  "  And  you,  too,  my  gentle  little  cousin— I  like  your  spi 
rit  even  better  than  the  tears  of  that  soft  one — and  you,  too, 
shall  share  the  honor.  A  pious  Mussulman,  you  know,  can 
have  more  than  one  wife,  and  the  creed  is  short,  '  there  is  no 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  211 

God  but  God,  and  Mohammed  is  his  Prophet.'  To-morrow 
morning  you  shall  have  a  renegado  for  a  cousin,  and,  by  the  hea 
ven  that  I  renounce,  and  the  hell  that  I  brave,  to-morrow  night 
shall  see  you,  as  well  as  your  sister,  a  renegado's  wife." 

His  last  words  were  spoken  in  a  loud  tone,  while  holding 
the  open  door  in  his  hands.  As  he  stepped  into  the  street 
he  stumbled  over  a  man  who  was  coiled  up,  Moorish  fashion, 
at  the  door-sill.  Don  Diego  started. 

"  'Tis  no  matter,"  he  muttered,  "  even  if  he  did  overhear, 
1  Allah,  il  Allah  rassoul,  Mohammed  AllahJ  will  set  it  all  right. 
It  is  not  often  that  the  Moors  get  such  a  proselyte  as  I  am — 
a  free  man — one  who  has  just  paid  his  ransom.  I  shall  be 
created  a  kaid  at  once ;  but  first  to  make  a  bargain  for  the 
price  of  my  apostacy  with  the  kaid  of  the  slaves — and  then 
for  love  and  revenge." 

With  his  white  and  parched  lips  muttering,  and  the  fires 
of  demoniac  passion  raging  at  his  heart,  the  don  passed,  ab 
sorbed  in  himself,  along  the  streets.  Nor  did  he  perceive 
that  he  was  closely  followed  by  the  man  over  whom  he  had 
stumbled  as  he  made  his  retreat  from  the  dagger  of  Juanita. 

As  soon  as  the  door  had  closed  upon  him,  the  young  girl 
let  fall  her  weapon,  and  rapidly  securing  the  bolts,  darted  back 
to  her  sister. 

':  We  are  lost,"  exclaimed  Isabel.  "  And  I,  Juanita,  have 
ruined  all.  Oh,  why  was  I  so  weak  as  to  admit  him ;  or  ra 
ther  why  was  I  so  foolish  as  to  speak  to  him  in  the  street  ? 
Oh,  I  have  ruined  all — myself,  you,  Edward,  and  it  may  be, 
Hassan." 

"  Say  not  so,  sister,"  replied  Juanita.     "  Our  friends  are 


212  THE     BERBER. 

powerful  and  resolute,  and  if  we  could  only  let  them  know 
.of  the  threats  of  our  kinsman,  I  feel  sure  that  some  plan 
could  be  devised  to  counteract  them.  Oh,  that  Abdallah 
would  come ! " 

But  Abdallah  did  not  come.  No  friendly  knock  inter 
rupted  the  sad  silence  of  vague  and  depressing  apprehension, 
and  for  an  hour  or  more  the  sisters  sat  locked  in  each  other's 
arms. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  slight  whizzing  noise  in  the  air,  fol 
lowed  by  the  sound  of  something  falling  on  the  brick  pave 
ment  of  the  patio. 

Both  maidens  started  with  fear,  but  Juanita,  recovering 
herself  in  a  moment,  seized  the  lamp  and  darted  into  the 
court.  A  piece  of  paper,  attached  to  a  leaden  bullet,  lay  in 
sight.  The  young  girl  seized  it,  and  running  back  to  Isabel, 
the  sisters  proceeded  with  trembling  hands  to  untie  the  string 
by  which  it  was  attached  to  the  weight.  They  opened  the 
note,  but  to  their  great  chagrin,  the  first  words,  although  writ 
ten  in  Roman  characters,  were  in  a  language  of  which  they 
were  entirely  ignorant.  The  words  were  pure  Berber  : 

"  Elezad  mourJced  heeou  ougharb  ekedhir  ousherk"  The 
sisters  might  have  puzzled  over  them  all  night,  were  it  not  that 
upon  turning  the  paper  they  found  penciled  in  Spanish  a 
translation  of  the  Berber  proverb : — 

"  If  the  west  wind  don't  bring  it,  the  east  wind  will." 

"  What  can  it  mean  1 "  exclaimed  Isabel. 

Juanita  jumped  to  her  feet  and  waved  the  paper  exult- 
ingly.  "  Everything,  sister,  everything,"  she  cried ;  "  it 
means  hope,  courage,  liberty." 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  213 

"  But  whence  comes  it  1 "  demanded  Isabel. 

"  Why,  sister,  how  dull  you  are,"  replied  Juanita  ;  "  who 
but  one  could  have  sent  it?  Don't  you  see — what  means 
the  east  wind — the  wind  from  the  mountains  ?  " 

"  The  Berber  ?"  inquired  Isabel. 

"  Certainly  !  I  knew  that  it  was  he  whom  I  saw  on  the 
terrace.  Oh,  Isabel,  we  are  safe." 

"  God  grant  it,"  replied  the  elder  sister  ;  "  but  much  I  fear 
the  malice  of  Don  Diego.  I  doubt  not  the  will  of  your  Ber 
ber,  for  of  that  the  rais  has  assured  us ;  but  much  I  doubt 
his  power." 

"  Doubt  nothing,  sister,"  exclaimed  Juanita  energetically ; 
"  Oh,  if  you  had  seen  him,  as  I  have,  you  could  not  doubt. 
I  know,  sister,  that  I  have  something  here — at  heart — that 
many  a  man  lacks ;  courage,  energy,  will ;  and  this  conscious 
ness  made  me  see,  and  feel,  the  exact  counterparts  of  those 
qualities  in  him — but  how  overwhelming  the  sense.  I  saw 
myself,  but  it  was  myself  magnified  into  a  giant.  Oh,  sister, 
shall  I  tell  you  how  I  felt  when  he  left  me  waiting  for  your 
arrival  on  the  hill-side1?  It  seemed  to  me  as  if  I  had  suddenly 
become  two  persons,  and  as  if  the  one  that  was  most  myself 
was  mounted  on  a  big  black  steed,  and  was  flying  over  bush 
and  rock,  up  the  hill." 

"  My  dear  child  ! "  exclaimed  Isabel,  "  this  Berber  has 
turned  your  head — and  your  heart  too,  I  suspect.  Juanita, 
you  are  in  love !" 

"  Oh  no,  Isabel,"  exclaimed  Juanita  with  an  earnest  sim 
plicity.  "  I  am  not  in  love,  but  I  admire  him  ;  I  venerate 
him." 


214  THE     BERBER. 

"  Venerate  him !  For  his  years  I  suppose  ?  I  think  you 
said  he  was  about  twenty-two.  Venerable  man !  The  infir 
mities  of  age,  I  trust,  will  not  prevent  his  aiding  us.  Come, 
sister,  let  us  go  upon  the  terrace ;  this  room  is  stifling,  and 
we  can  better  discuss  in  the  open  air  a  hero  of  such  propor 
tions  as  your  Berber." 

The  sisters  paced  the  enclosed  roof,  or  stretched  themselves 
on  a  cushioned  carpet  beneath  an  awning  of  tent-cloth  that  co 
vered  one  angle  of  the  battlements.  Isabel's  unwonted  tone  of 
badinage  was  kept  up  for  some  time,  and  the  whole  conversa 
tion  was  of  a  more  cheerful  cast  than  could  have  been  ex 
pected  after  the  propositions  and  threats  of  Don  Diego. 
This  was  owing  partly  to  their  disbelief  in  the  intentions  of 
the  don  to  turn  Mohammedan,  and  ignorance  of  the  power 
that  his  apostacy  would  give  him — partly  to  the  encourage 
ment  afforded  by  the  Berber's  note — but  more  than  all,  to 
that  principle  in  human  nature  that  does  not  permit  a  long 
and  uninterrupted  indulgence  to  the  stronger  and  more  active 
emotions  of  the  mind.  The  ocean  of  passion  has  its  tides,  and 
it  is  rarely  possible  to  keep  the  level  for  ever  up  to  high  water 
mark.  The  law  of  love  is  that  of  ebb  and  flow,  or  stagnation 
and  decay.  The  sternest  grief  that  ever  lay  like  a  pall  on  a 
human  heart  will  wear  threadbare  in  places,  and  let  in  the  light 
of  day  again  upon  the  sentiments  and  the  affections  j  the  most 
mortal  fear  that  ever  barred  our  pathway  will  in  time  grow  fa 
miliar  and  cease  to  be  terrible.  It  may  be  a  lion,  and  a  fierce 
formidable  lion  still,  but,  instead  of  standing  for  ever  in  des 
pair,  we  shake  the  beast  by  the  paw  and  pass  on.  No  one 
can  afford  to  be  frightened  at  any  danger  for  ever. 


A     TALE     OF    MOROCCO.  215 


CHAPTER    XVIII 


It  was  the  time  of  the  Ramadan,  when  for  a  period  of 
forty  days  the  Mohammedans  rigorously  abstain  from  food, 
and  even  drink,  during  the  day.  The  instant  however  the 
muedden  announces,  by  his  call  to  El  Mogareb*  that  the  day 
has  closed,  the  hungry  believer  hurries  to  indemnify  himself 
for  his  privations,  by  an  indulgence  in  food,  limited  only  by  his 
pecuniary  means,  and  the  capacity  of  his  stomach.  The  slight 
est  return  of  appetite  is  closely  watched,  and  eagerly  taken  ad 
vantage  of,  and  four  or  five  times  in  the  night  do  the  wealthi 
er  disciples  of  the  Prophet  fortify  the  inner  man  against  the 
attacks  of  hunger  during  the  coming  day.  That  there  may  be 
no  excuse  for  breaking  fast  in  the  day  time,  trumpets  are  sound 
ed  by  the  mueddens  at  intervals  during  the  night,  to  waken 
people  to  their  meals,  and  just  previous  to  Es  Sebah,  mes- 

*  Every  Mussulman  must  say  his  prayers  five  times  a  day.  The  first 
tune  at  the  first  point  of  dawn,  or  when  the  sun  is  at  eighteen  degrees 
under  the  horizon  in  the  east,  which  is  called  Es-sebah.  The  second 
time  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  shade  of  the  gnomon,  placed  perpendicu 
larly  in  the  sun,  shows  the  fourth  part  of  its  length — this  prayer  is  called 
Ed-douhour.  The  third  prayer  is  made  when  the  shade  of  the  gno 
mon  is  equal  to  its  own  length — this  prayer  is  called  El-assar.  The 
fourth  takes  place  a  moment  after  sunset,  and  is  called  El-mogareb  ;  and 
the  fifth  is  at  the  last  moment  of  twilight — it  is  called  El-aaschir — Ali 
Bey. 


216  THE     BERBER. 

sengers  from  the  mosques  rush  wildly  through  the  streets 
uttering  loud  cries,  and  beating  on  the  doors  with  heavy 
clubs.  To  the  higher  classes — those  who  can  afford  to  sleep 
all  day  and  eat  all  night — the  Ramadan  is  not  a  very  try 
ing  time,  but  to  those  who  have  to  labor  by  daylight,  the  fast 
is  one  of  considerable  severity. 

The  Mequinezians  were  all  occupied  in  their  houses  with 
the  evening  feast,  and  consequently  the  streets  were  quiet 
and  deserted  as  Don  Diego  made  his  way  back  to  the  quar 
ter  of  the  Christian  slaves. 

Without  molestation  he  passed  on,  and  in  a  few  steps 
reached  an  open  gate  leading  to  a  small  court,  around  which 
were  ranged  several  long  rooms.  Through  an  archway  at 
the  further  side  of  the  court  could  be  seen  an  immense  in- 
closure,  filled  with  little  thatched  hovels,  hardly  as  large  as 
pig-sties,  and  not  half  so  clean,  in  which  were  lodged  several 
hundred  Christian  slaves.  These  were  common  laborers, 
who  had  been  found  fit  for  nothing  but  carrying  stone  and 
mortar  for  the  sol  tan's  buildings.  The  mechanics  and  skilled 
workmen  were  distributed  in  other  quarters,  and  more 
closely  watched. 

Some  of  the  guards  were  engaged  over  heaps  of  embers 
in  cooking  the  materials  for  their  evening  meal;  others 
were  solemnly  employed  in  thrusting  enormous  handfuls  of 
cooscoosoo  into  their  mouths,  from  dishes  that  had  been 
brought  in  by  children  and  slaves ;  while  others,  stuffed  to 
repletion,  were  rolled  up  in  their  haicks  on  the  floors  and 
pavements,  or  squatting  around  the  walls,  were  looking 
with  the  gravity  of  satiated  gluttony  upon  the  movements 
of  their  companions. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  217 

Orsolo's  entrance  excited  no  attention.  He  was  looked  upon 
as  a  ransomed  man,  and  if  he  chose  to  run  the  risks  of  the 
street,  it  was  not  the  business  of  the  guard  to  hinder  him. 
They  were  placed  there  to  prevent  Moors  from  coining  in, 
rather  than  to  keep  the  Christians  from  going  out ;  and  why 
should  they  interfere  with  a  Kaffir  who  was  no  longer  a  slave, 
and  who  would  receive  nothing  more  than  his  deserts  if  he 
should  be  knocked  on  the  head  by  some  Christian-hating 
believer,  or  stoned  to  death  by  the  rabble  1 

The  don  crossed  the  court,  and  paused  under  the  further 
arch,  where  he  could  look  over  the  enclosure  of  huts,  and 
listen  to  the  voices  of  the  slaves  rising  in  a  loud  chorus  of 
ribaldry  and  blasphemy.  Some  were  wrangling  and  cursing  ; 
some  shouting,  laughing,  and  strumming  guitars  to  obscene 
words ;  and  some  praying  and  groaning  in  pain  and  despair. 
Slowly  he  paced  to  and  fro,  along  the  arched  passage,  but 
every  now  and  then  he  would  start  forward  with  a  rapid  step, 
gesticulate  violently,  mutter  to  himself,  and  then  wiping  the 
cold  perspiration  from  his  brow,  and  the  flecks  of  foam  frora 
his  lips,  his  movements  would  subside  into  a  more  gentle  gait. 
Terrible  was  the  contest  between  love  and  hate  and  the  thirst 
for  revenge  on  the  one  hand,  and  his  religious  scruples — his 
fear  of  eternal  punishment — his  detestation  of  the  Moors  and 
Moorish  life  on  the  other ;  and  so  absorbing  too,  that  he  heeded 
not  the  presence  of  a  figure  that,  gliding  from  the  court,  threw 
itself  upon  the  pavement  of  the  passage,  as  if  for  sleep. 

For  nearly  three  hours  did  he  continue  to  pace  the  arched 
passage.  Suddenly  stopping,  he  raised  his  clenched  hand,  and 
violently  smote' his  brow. 

10 


218  THE     BERBER. 

"  I'll  do  it,"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  loud  voice.  "  By  all  the 
fiends !  I'll  do  it.  Surely,"  he  muttered  in  a  lower  tone,  "  I 
shall  find  some  means  in  time  to  leave  this  country,  when 
there  will  be  no  difficulty  in  making  my  peace  with  the 
Church.  But  if  I  should  not — if  I  should  die  a  Mohamme 
dan — why  then,  hell  may  be  my  portion,  but  I  will  have 
her — I  wiU  have  revenge."  And  turning  with  a  rapid  step, 
Don  Diego  entered  the  court  of  the  guards. 

Addressing  himself  to  a  Spanish  renegado,  he  expressed 
his  wish  for  an  audience  of  Hammed  ben  Slowek,  chief  kaid 
of  the  slaves.  The  request  was  communicated  to  the  captain 
of  the  guard,  who  opened  wide  his  eyes  in  astonishment  at 
such  unheard-of  presumption. 

"  The  kaid  sleeps,  or  perchance  he  is  engaged  in  his  devo 
tions,"  replied  the  captain.  "  The  Kaffir  can  wait." 

"  Tell  him,"  replied  Don  Diego,  in  a  raised  tone,  "  that  I 
must  see  him.  My  business  is  important.  A  Christian  soul 
is  knocking  for  admission  at  the  gate  of  the  Prophet,  and  who 
dares  say,  wait  till  the  morning,  and  it  shall  be  opened  to 
him?" 

This  announcement  created  something  of  a  sensation.  The 
captain  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  the  various  members  of  the 
corps  huddled  with  excited  countenances  around  the  tall  figure 
of  the  sullen,  savage-looking  Spaniard. 

A  dozen  voices  urged  him  to  repeat  the  customary  formula 
of  the  Mohammedan  faith. 

"  I  will  repeat  nothing,  say  nothing,  do  nothing,"  exclaimed 
Orsolo,  "  until  I  have  seen  the  kaid." 

The  Moors  saw  that  it  would  be  useless  to  urge  him  fur- 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  219 

ther,  and  forthwith  a  messenger  was  dispatched  to  that  officer. 
In  a  few  minutes  he  returned,  and  the  don,  accompanied  by  a 
tumultuous  and  excited  escort  of  more  than  half  the  corps  de 
garde,  was  hurried  across  the  street,  and,  passing  a  low  door, 
entered  a  dark,  dingy  sLefa,  or  vestibule,  hardly  large  enough 
to  contain  half  a  dozen  persons.  But  in  this  particular  it  dif 
fered  not  from  the  audience  rooms  'of  the  highest  ministers 
of  state. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  kaid  made  his  appearance  from  the 
court ;  and  squatting  without  ceremony  upon  a  small  morocco 
cushion  by  the  inner  door,  demanded  the  cause  of  this  visit. 

"  My  business  can  be  communicated  only  to  my  lord,  tha 
kaid,"  replied  Orsolo.  "  I  must  speak  with  him  alone." 

"  Dog !"  exclaimed  the  kaid,  "  do  you  mean  to  say  that  you 
have  dared  to  set  your  foot  in  a  saint's  house  for  any  other 
purpose  than  to  renounce  your  idolatrous  belief  ?" 

The  kaid  spoke  angrily.  Although  a  bigoted  Mohamme 
dan,  and  as  such  desirous  of  making  proselytes  under  ordinary 
circumstances,  he  was  too  much  interested  in  the  receipt  of 
the  Christian's  promised  ransom  to  fully  relish  the  idea  of  his 
escaping  the  payment  of  it  by  apostacy. 

"I  come  to  repeat  the  creed  of  the  Prophet,"  replied 
Orsolo,"  in  a  tone  of  dogged  determination*, "  also  to  speak 
to  my  lord  the  kaid  in  relation  to  two  Christian  females,  and 
I  wish  to  say  what  I  have  to  say  in  private." 

At  this  the  kaid  started,  and  ordered  the  room  to  be 
cleared  of  all  except  the  interpreter. 

"  Speak !  what  is  it  you  have  to  say  ?"  he  eagerly  de 
manded. 


220  THE     BERBER. 

"  I  was  a  Christian  and  a  Spaniard,"  replied  the  don.  "  I 
now  renounce  my  religion  and  my  country.  I  am  a  Mussul 
man  and  a  Moor,  and  this,  without  compulsion — of  my  own 
free  will.  I  am  not  even  a  slave — I  am  a  freeman — my  ran 
som  is  at  hand,  and  yet " — Orsolo  paused,  while  a  shudder  ran 
through  his  frame,  and  the  cold  sweat  bedewed  his  forehead, 
"  and  yet,"  he  continued,  clenching  his  teeth,  and  nerving  him 
self  for  the  dreadful  confession,  "  I  give  up  all  for  El  Islam. 
*  La  ilaha,  ila  Allah  Mohammed  Rasoul  Allah  /'  " 

There  was  a  struggle  for  a  moment  in  the  mind  of  the  kaid, 
between  his  bigotry  and  his  avarice — between  his  zeal  for  El 
Islam  and  his  itching  for  the  Christian's  ransom.  But  bigotry 
finally  prevailed.  The  kaid  sprang  to  his  feet  and  threw  his 
arms  around  the  apostate. 

"  Alhamdo  Lellahi !  Praise  be  to  God !"  he  exclaimed,  kiss 
ing  him  on  the  head  and  breast.  "  Sobhana  Allahi !  Allahu 

o 

Akibar !  Alhamdo  Lillahi  /"  and  pulling  him  down  to-  a  seat 
by  his  side,  the  kaid  continued  to  press  his  hands  and  kiss  him 
on  different  parts  of  his  person,  amid  a  shower  of  congratula 
tions  and  devotional  ejaculations, for  full  five  minutes. 

It  was  with  a  sense  of  the  most  bitter  humiliation  that 
Orsolo  endured  the  caresses  of  the  negro,  but  he  dared  not  re 
sist.  He  even  made  a  show  of  returning  them,  and  several 
times  forced  his  parched  and  quivering  lips  to  do  homage  to 
the  black,  brawny,  and  not  over  clean  hands  of  the  saint. 

Suddenly  pausing,  the  kaid  looked  inquiringly  at  the  new 
convert. 

"  And  what  of  the  ransom  that  is  on  its  way  from  Spain?" 
he  demanded. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO. 

"  Of  course,"  replied  Orsolo,  "  as  a  Mussulman  and  a  Moor, 
I  need  pay  no  ransom." 

A  dark  frown  gathered  on  the  countenance  of  the  kaid. 

"But,"  continued  Orsolo,  observing  the  expression,  and 
lowering  his  tone  as  he  bent  towards  the  kaid,  "  if  I  pay  no 
ransom  for  my  freedom,  that  shall  make  no  difference  with  the 
purse  of  my  lord  the  kaid.  I  have  a  favor  to  ask,  a  small  one — 
one  that,  as  a  convert  to  El  Islam,  I  have  the  right  to  ask  of 
the  soltan,  but  one  for  which  I  am  willing  to  pay  half  the  sum 
that  has  been  agreed  upon  for  my  ransom,  to  any  one  who  will 
help  me  to  obtain  it." 

"  Listen,"  continued  the  don;  but  there  was  no  need  for 
the  direction;  the  attention  of  the  kaid  was  thoroughly 
aroused.  "  There  are  two  Christian  women  in  the  city  who 
have  been  retained  by  their  captor,  one  of  the  corsairs  of  Sa- 
lee,  for  his  own  purposes.  He  has  forfeited  all  claim  to  them 
by  secreting  them  contrary  to  the  soltan's  order.  I  want  them 
for  my  hareem." 

"Are  they  the  women  captured  by  Hassan  HeracM" asked 
the  kaid  in  an  eager  voice. 

"  The  same,"  replied  Orsolo,  somewhat  astonished  at  the 
evidences  of  intense  interest  exhibited  by  his  companion. 

"Where  are  they  nowl"  demanded  the  kaid,  clutching 
the  Spaniard's  arm  with  a  vigorous  grasp.  "Do  you  know 
where  that  dog  of  a  rais  has  hidden  them?" 

"  My  lord  must  pardon  me,"  replied  Orsolo,  "  if  I  keep 
their  place  of  concealment  a  secret  until  I  am  assured  that 
they  shall  be  mine." 

The  kaid's  eyes  flashed,  and  the  frown  on  his  brow  deep- 


222  THE     BERBER. 

ened ;  but  suddenly  smoothing  his  face,  he  replied  in  a  sub 
dued  tone, 

"  Tis  but  for  the  sake  of  revenge  on  that  villain,  Hassan 
Herach,  that  I  wish  to  know.  Tell  me  where  they  are ;  let 
me  convict  him  of  keeping  back  two  of  his  captives,  and  the 
women  shall  be  yours." 

"If  I  can  but  discover  their  hiding-place,"  thought  Ham 
med,  "  it  will  be  hard  if  I  do  not  find  means  to  secure 
them  to  myself,  and  finger  this  renegade's  money  into  the 
bargain."  His  thoughts  engendered  a  corresponding  expres 
sion,  and  there  was  something  so  sinister  in  his  scowling  eyes, 
and  so  hollow  in  his  assumed  smile,  that  Orsolo  paused  in 
terror.  His  heart  sickened  within  him  as  the  conviction  of 
the  kaid's  insincerity  came  upon  him.  He  felt  that  he  was  on 
the  point  of  losing  all  for  which  he  had  sacrificed  so  much, 
and  with  the  energy  of  desperation  he  laid  his  hand  upon  the 
kaid's  arm. 

"  Look  you,  sidi  Hammed  ben  Slowek,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I 
am  not  to  be  trifled  with.  These  women  I  will  have.  I  will 
appeal  to  the  soltan.  I  will  make  my  demand  known  in  the 
mosque  on  the  day  of  my  initiation.  I  will  shout  it  to  the 
populace  in  the  streets.  Think  you  that  I  shall  not  be  in  a 
position — I,  a  volunteer  convert  to  the  true  faith — to  enforce 
so  trifling  a  demand  as  that  for  two  miserable,  worthless 
Christian  slaves  ?  " 

The  kaid  saw  that  he  had  a  determined  man  to  deal  with, 
and  that  perhaps  the  safest  course  would  be  to  compromise 
matters,  and  divide  the  spoil.  Turning  to  Orsolo  with  an  air 
of  frankness,  he  extended  his  hand. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  223 

"  Take  one,"  he  said,  "  and  leave  the  other  to  me." 

Orsolo  hesitated,  and  looked  inquiringly  into  the  kaid's 
eyes. 

"Take  one,  we  are  friends,  and  you  are  sure  of  the 
other.  Insist  upon  both,  we  are  enemies,  and  you  will  get 
neither." 

"  But  tell  me,"  demanded  Orsolo,  "  why  is  it  that  you 
trouble  yourself  for  a  Christian  woman  ?" 

"  Spaniard,  I  have  seen  her — she  has  been  in  my  arms — 
her  breath  came  into  my  face  as  she  lay  across  my  saddle 
bow,  and  the  zephyrs  of  spring  from  the  plains  of  Marasche 
are  not  more  sweet.  When  I  lost  her,  I  lost  a  pearl — a  dia 
mond — a  star.  But  what  could  I  do  ?  I  was  alone  with  that 
son  of  Ebliss,  the  Berber — may  the  curse  of  Allah  light  on 
him  and  his  race,-but  so  soon  as  I  learned  that  by  some 
means,  I  know  not  how,  she  had  been  recovered  by  the  rais, 
I  swore,  by  the  arch  of  El  Serat,  by  the  sacred  waters  of  Zem- 
zem,  that  she  should  be  mine.  Spaniard,  give  her  up  to  me, 
and  the  other  shall  be  yours  !" 

"  You  mean  the  tallest  and  slenderest  of  the  two,"  gloom 
ily  inquired  Orsolo. 

"  The  one,"  replied  the  kaid,  "  who  sits  on  her  horse  like  a 
bird  on  a  bough,  and  who  walks  on  the  ground  as  if  she  were 
stepping  on  flowers,  and  each  flower  a  friend." 

Orsolo  looked  at  the  burly  speaker,  and  a  feeling  of 
compunction  came  over  him  as  he  thought  of  the  fair  face  and 
delicate  form  of  the  doomed  Juanita.  But  it  was  too  late  for 
repentance.  He  had  taken  the  fatal  plunge,  and  both  sisters 
must  go  down  into  the  pit  with  him !  And  the  young  En- 


224  THE     BERBER. 

glishman  !  "  Ha  ! "  muttered  the  don — "  there  is  that  account 
to  settle — but  time  enough  when  I  have  secured  my  bride — 
he  can  wait — he  cannot  escape  me."  And  turning  to  the 
kaid  he  grasped  his  proffered  hand,  and  signified  an  assent 
to  his  proposition. 

With  many  oaths  on  either  side  the  bargain  was  ratified, 
and  dispositions  made  to  seize  upon  their  victims.  Ah !  could 
those  victims  have  known  the  horrid  contract  of  which  they 
were  the  subjects,  they  would  not  have  laid  them  down,  after 
pacing  the  terrace  till  a  late  hour,  and,  locked  in  each  other's 
arms  beneath  the  awning,  have  slumbered  so  quietly  the 
while. 

A  guard  of  half  a  dozen  men  was  ordered  out,  and  at  the 
head  of  it  Orsolo  and  the  kaid  proceeded  to  the  house  that 
had  been  allotted  to  the  sisters.  The  first  faint  glimmerings 
of  morn — the  grey  dust  thrown  up  in  the  sky  by  the  prancings 
of  Apollo's  chargers — was  flying  overhead  when  they  reached 
the  door. 

Don  Diego  knocked  several  times,  and  called  to  the  sis 
ters,  but  no  answer  was  returned.  It  was  an  object  to  enter 
the  house  without  attracting  much  attention,  or  exciting  a  tu 
mult,  and  the  kaid,  knowing  that  he  had  no  especial  warrant 
for  what  he  was  doing,  and  that  it  might  be  dangerous  to  of 
fend  the  prejudices  of  the  town's-people  by  forcing  the  door, 
waited  until  Don  Diego  had  exhausted  all  his  efforts  to 
obtain  a  response.  But  finding,  at  length,  that  there  were  no 
other  means,  and  that  the  darkness  would  soon  disappear  and 
uncover  his  operations,  he  directed  his  men  to  throw  them 
selves  with  violence  against  the  door.  The  fastenings  were 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  225 

old  and  feeble,  and  yielding  with  a  crash,  the  door  swung  into 
the  skeffa,  and  the  party  rushed  through  the  vestibule  into 
the  court. 

All  was  silent  and  deserted.  The  rooms  were  open,  but 
not  an  occupant.  The  terrace  was  equally  vacant.  Something 
on  the  pavement  of  the  court  attracted  their  attention — it  was 
a  large  pool  of  fresh  blood.  Spots  of  blood  were  traced  up 
the  stairs  leading  to  the  roof,  and  several  pieces  of  clothing 
lying  about  were  moist  and  warm  with  it.  The  don  and  the 
kaid  looked  at  each  other  in  doubt  and  amazement.  It  was 
evident  that  their  intended  victims  were  gone — but  where,  and 
how  ?  And  the  blood !  what  could  have  happened  to  them  ? 

"  Better  anything,"  whispered  the  conscience  of  Don  Or- 
solo,  "  than  the  sacrifice  to  which  you  had  doomed  them." 

And  the  wretched  renegade's  conscience  was  right.  Better 
even  death  itself,  than  the  common  but  none  the  less  terrible 
sacrifice  of  maiden  innocence,  when  that  sacrifice  is  unconse- 
crated  by  the  holy  spirit  of  love — but  better  a  thousand  deaths 
than  when  the  sacrifice  is  desecrated  by  all  the  vilest,  most 
brutal  and  diabolical  passions  of  the  human  heart. 


10* 


226  THE     BERBER. 


CHAPTER   XIX 


WE  left  Fatima,  after  her  sudden  headlong  descent  from 
the  terrace,  engaged  in  sharpening  a  large  knife,  and  in  per 
forming  sundry  mysterious  incantations  and  magical  ceremo 
nies  over  a  small  earthen  pot  that  was  bubbling  on  a  furnace 
of  charcoal  in  a  corner  of  the  large  court. 

Fatima  was  a  native  of  Bambarra,  whence  she  had 
been  brought  across  the  desert  by  the  slave  dealers  of  Fez. 
She  was  already  grown  to  womanhood,  and  consequently  had 
brought  with  her  the  prejudices  and  superstitious  practices  of 
her  countrymen,  which,  when  converted  to  the  faith  of  her 
captors,  instead  of  giving  up,  she  continued  to  mingle  in  ad 
mirable  mental  confusion  with  the  rites  and  doctrines  of  El 
[slam.  She  believed  as  well  in  Obi  as  in  Allah  ;  in  the  vir 
tues  of  the  fetish,  and  in  the  efficacy  of  amulets  from  the 
Koran ;  in  the  power  of  the  gingams  or  priests,  and  in  the 
sanctity  of  marabouts  and  saints. 

On  almost  all  other  subjects  the  contents  of  her  mind  were 
equally  in  a  jumble,  but  there  was  one  point  upon  which 
her  reason,  her  faith,  and  her  affections,  were  perfectly  clear. 
She  loved  Xaripha  with  the  whole  strength  of  her  passionate, 
energetic,  bigoted  and  ignorant  mind.  She  had  nursed  her 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  227 

when  an  infant.  She  had  watched  over  her  with  all  a  mother's 
anxiety.  She  felt  as  if  she  were  her  own  child.  And  now, 
should  a  rival  have  it  in  her  power  to  make  her  darling 
miserable  ]  Fatirna  looked  up  to  the  gallery  where  Xaripha 
sat,  and  energetically  shook  her  head. 

"Yah!  how  white  her  face  is,"  she  muttered  to  herself. 
"  He  make  her  stop  painting  her  cheeks,  and  now  he  take  all 
the  blood  away  too — but  this,"  she  continued,  making  a  me 
nacing  gesture  in  the  direction  of  the  adjoining  house,  "  shall 
make  somebody's  heart  as  white  as  her  face ;  I  know — yah, 
yah  ! "  And  the  old  woman  resumed,  in  a  low  chaunting 
voice,  her  incantations  and  prayers. 

At  length  the  dish  that  she  was  watching  seemed  to  be 
cooked  to  suit  her,  and  taking  it  off  the  fire  she  allowed  the 
contents  to  cool.  With  much  muttering,  and  divers  contor 
tions  of  the  body,  she  now  proceeded  to  anoint  various  parts 
of  her  person  with  the  unctuous  product  of  her  magical  distil 
lation — and  ended  by  applying  some  of  the  same  substance 
to  the  blade  of  the  knife. 

It  was  not  until  nearly  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  that 
Xaripha,  who  had  been  wandering  about  upon  the  terrace  and 
the  galleries  of  the  courts,  retired  to  her  sleeping  apartments, 
leaving  Fatima  coiled  up,  apparently  in  a  sound  slumber,  up 
on  a  mat  in  the  open  court.  A  few  minutes  afterwards  the 
old  negress  started  to  her  feet,  and  after  ascertaining  that 
the  other  slaves  were  asleep,  she  passed  on  to  her  master's 
room  and  listened  for  some  time  at  his  door. 

"  Yah !  he  sleep  like  a  lion,"  she  exclaimed — "  Tis  only 
Leila  Xaripha  who  can't  sleep — but  1  think  she  won't  come  out 


228  THE     BERBER. 

again.  Poor  Xaripha  saghira!  She  has  cried  all  the  tears 
out  of  her  eyes.  I  guess  she  shut  'em  up  now  till  morning." 

The  old  woman  cautiously  traversed  the  outer  court,  and 
unlocking  a  small  store  room,  brought  out  a  ladder  of  a  few 
steps,  used  for  reaching  the  various  articles  of  provender,  such 
as  dates,  dried  grapes,  bags  of  cooscoosoo,  &c.  hanging  against 
the  wall.  The  ladder  was  light,  and  without  difficulty  she 
carried  it  up  the  narrow  staircase  to  the  roof,  where  she  placed 
it  against  the  wall  of  the  turret.  Ee-entering  the  turret, 
she  secured  a  bundle  of  cord  made  of  palmetto  fibre,  and  re 
turning  to  the  ladder,  ascended  as  rapidly  as  her  obesity  and 
her  age  would  permit.  The  ladder  did  not  quite  reach  to  the 
roof  of  the  tower,  and  it  was  with  a  degree  of  exertion  that 
compelled  her  to  roll  over  on  her  back  and  wait  for  breath,  that 
she  drew  herself  up  to  the  top. 

It  was  a  delicious  balmy  night,  but  intensely  darK — a  heavy 
canopy  of  high  clouds,  while  it  prevented  the  dew  from  falling, 
shut  out  the  stars,  and  left  nothing  to  mitigate  the  intense 
blackness  except  the  occasional  glimmer  of  lamp  ligl\t  shoot 
ing  upward  from  the  open  patios,  and  playing  on  the  white 
washed  walls. 

The  house  in  which  the  sisters  were  lodged  was  but  one 
story,  and  consequently  from  the  terrace  to  the  top  of  the  tur 
ret  of  Abdallah's  house  was  a  height  of  nearly  twenty  feet ;  not 
much  for  an  active  man,  but  something  for  a  fat  and  feeble 
woman.  Nothing  daunted,  however,  Fatima,  as  soon  as  she 
had  recovered  her  breath,  gave  one  look  below  and  proceeded 
to  fasten  her  ladder  of  cords  around  the  dentils  of  the  serrated 
eaves.  Boldly  and  noiselessly  she  threw  herself  over,  and  in  a 
few  moments  stood  upon  the  terrace  below. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  2*29 

All  was  silent.  Fatima  listened — she  heard  nothing  to  in 
dicate  that  there  was  any  one  asleep  on  the  terrace  as  is  gene 
rally  the  custom  among  the  Moors  in  pleasant  weather.  A 
lamp  was  in  one  of  the  rooms  below,  and  through  the  half 
opened  door  flung  its  light  into  the  court. 

"She  must  be  down  there,"  muttered  the  negress,  and 
grasping  her  knife  she  groped  her  way  to  the  staircase  and 
descended. 

Cautiously  pushing  open  the  door  she  entered  the  room 
and  looked  around.  A  piece  of  carpet,  and  a  few  cushions, 
were  all  that  it  contained.  Crossing  the  court  the  old  woman 
listened  at  the  doors  of  the  other  three  rooms,  and  then  trying 
them,  and  finding  them  unlocked,  she  pushed  them  open  and 
entered,  but  no  sounds  indicated  that  the  rooms  were  occupied. 
She  returned,  to  the  first  room,  and  detaching  the  lamp  from 
the  wall,  proceeded  to  examine  the  other  apartments  by  its 
light. 

For  a  few  moments  Fatima  stood  quite  bewildered  in  the 
court.  It  seemed  as  if  some  djin  must  have  spirited  the  ob 
jects  of  her  search  away. 

"  I  think  I  don't  make  that  fetish  strong  enough,"  she  ex 
claimed.  "  Yah,  yah !  I  think  it  must  be  a  djin,  or  may  be, 
Ebliss  himself,  but  I  don't  care.  If  I  once  see  the  devil  I  tell 
him  what  I  think,  that  I  will.  Yah,  yah!  But  I  hav'nt 
looked  round  the  terrace — perhaps  I  find  her  up  there."  So 
saying,  Fatima,  with  the  lamp  in  one  hand  and  her  long  sharp 
knife  in  the  other,  ascended  the  stairs. 

As  she  raised  the  lamp  the  light  fell  upon  the  awning  we 
have  mentioned  in  the  further  angle  of  the  battlements  ;  cau- 


230  THE     BERBER. 

tiously  she  advanced  until  she  stood  before  it,  and  then  stoop 
ing,  she  placed  the  lamp  upon  the  terrace  floor,  and  looked  in. 
The  sisters  were  there  asleep ;  and  a  beautiful  picture  they 
made,  as  half  sitting,  half  lying,  and  almost  buried  in  the  piles 
of  cushions  covering  its  thick-tufted  carpet,  they  reposed  in 
happy  unconsciousness  of  the  danger  impending  over  them.  A 
picture  of  intense  orientalism — such  as  can  never  be  paral 
leled,  except  upon  a  summer's  night  on  the  terraced  roofs  of 
some  Mohammedan  town. 

Juanita  lay  with  her  face  hidden  in  the  cushions,  her  black 
hair  loose,  and  enveloping  neck  and  shoulders  in  a  thick,  inky, 
billowy  flood  of  curls,  and  her  arm  thrown  across  her  sister's 
breast.  Isabel  lay  with  her  face  turned  upward — one  hand 
grasped  Juanita's  arm,  the  other  was  thrown  carelessly  off  upon 
the  cushion. 

Deliberately  Fatima  knelt  by  the  side  of  the  Gaditana. 
There  was  light  enough  to  reveal  the  fair  features  of  the  elder 
sister — the  graceful  contour — the  placid  expression— but  not  a 
sentiment  of  pity  or  compunction  stirred  in  the  heart  of  Fati 
ma.  In  fact,  the  extreme  beauty,  enhanced  in  the  eyes  of  the 
negress  by  a  certain  fullness  and  roundness  of  outline,  only 
roused  a  sterner  emotion  in  the  inexorable  avenger  of  Xari- 
pha's  wrongs. 

"She  is  too  handsome,"  murmured  Fatima j" she  cannot 
live  in  the  same  world  with  Xaripha.  Yah !  yah !  she  is  too 
beautiful !  I  don't  like  to  kill  her,  but  I  must  do  it — and  the 
other  one — ah, poor  child — I  don't  want  to  harm  her,  she  never 
do  any  harm  to  Xaripha.  I  am  sorry  for  her  when  she  wake 
up  and  find  her  sister  dead ;  but  this  one, — oh,  she  is  too  round 


A     TALE    OF    MOROCCO. 

and  full  and  beautiful !    Yah,  yah !  I  must  kill  her,  I  must  put 
the  obi  knife  right  into  her  heart." 

Cautiously  the  old  woman  leaned  over  the  body  of  her 
sleeping  victim.  The  long  sharp  knife  gleamed  in  her  hand — 
she  raised  it  on  high,  and  aimed  the  point  of  it  full  at  the  ex 
posed  breast  of  the  unconscious  Isabel. 

There  was  the  sound  of  footsteps  on  the  terrace — a  scream 
— and  the  next  instant  a  female  form  darted  like  lightning 
along  the  roof  and  threw  itself  upon  the  kneeling  negress. 
The  threatened  blow  was  partially  given,  but  it  fell  short  of 
its  mark.  Fatima  was  pushed  backward  and  almost  tumbled 
into  the  court.  The  knife  was  twisted  from  her  grasp,  inflict 
ing,  as  she  rolled  over  and  over  upon  the  roof,  a  deep  cut  in 
her  arm.  A  terrible  sputtering  of  Arabic  and  negro  exclama 
tions  issued  from  her  lips  as  she  groped  for  a  moment  for  her 
knife,  and  then  sprang,  almost  wild  with  passion,  to  her  feet. 
But  the  moment  she  confronted  her  unexpected  antagonist  her 
eye  quailed,  and  her  arm  fell. 

"  Xaripha,"  she  exclaimed,  "  Xaripha  saghira !  yah,  yah ! 
I  think  it  is  a  dj in." 

"  Away  with  you !"  exclaimed  Xaripha  energetically, 
"  wretch !  murderess !  away  with  you !" 

Xaripha  turned  to  the  sisters,  who,  now  fully  awake,  had 
started  from  their  reclining  positions  in  vague  alarm. 

"  Thank  God !"  she  exclaimed  in  Spanish,  "  I  was  not  too 
late ;  one  moment  more — ah,  I  shudder  to  think  of  it,"  and 
Xaripha  covered  her  eyes  with  her  hands. 

"What  is  the  matter?  what  has  happened?"  demanded 
the  sisters  in  a  breath. 


232  THE     BERBER. 

Xaripha  hesitated  for  a  moment.  "  It  will  be  safest  senoritas 
for  us  to  go  below,  where  I  will  explain  the  affair  to  you.  I 
am  afraid  that  we  may  have  already  attracted  attention  from 
some  of  the  higher  house-tops,  or  from  the  minarets  of  the 
mosques.  " 

"And  this  woman,"  exclaimed  Juanita,  going  up  to  the 
crest-fallen  Fatima — "  what  of  her?  See,  she  is  wounded.  Come, 
come  below,  where  we  can  find  something  to  staunch  this 
bleeding." 

Fatima  sullenly  shook  off  the  kindly  grasp  of  the  young 
girl.  Her  mistress  sternly  ordered  her  to  descend  to  the  court. 
The  old  woman  cast  a  suspicious  look  at  Xaripha,  as  if  still 
questioning  whether  she  was  not  some  deceitful  djin,  who 
had  assumed  the  form  of  her  favorite  in  order  to  baulk  her  of 
her  revenge,  but  she  obeyed.  She,  however,  resolutely  per 
sisted  in  refusing  all  assistance.  In  silence  she  wiped  the 
blood  from  her  arm,  and  then  thrusting  a  handkerchief  around 
the  wound,  moved  off  with  gloomy  brow,  ascended  again  to 
the  terrace,  and  from  thence  by  her  rope  ladder  to  the  turret 
of  her  own  house. 

Xaripha  pushed  aside  the  half  opened  wicket  in  one  of  the 
folding  doors,  and  motioned  to  the  sisters  to  enter.  Stepping 
in  after  them,  she  raised  the  lamp  to  Isabel's  face,  and  gazed 
at  her  for  some  time  without  speaking.  Isabel  returned  the 
gaze  with  a  look  of  wonder  and  curiosity,  which  gradually 
grew  deeper  and  deeper  as  the  bright  glittering  orbs  of  the 
Moorish  maiden,  beaming  with  the  expressions  of  contending 
emotions,  remained  fixed  upon  her. 

Generous  admiration  and  burning  jealousy  chased   each 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  233 

other  in  successive  waves  over  the  pale  face  of  Xaripha.  But 
at  last  the  more  noble  wave  swelled,  and,  impelled  by  a  breath 
of  scorn  for  her  own  weakness,  rolled  proudly  on,  and  over 
passing  its  rival,  filled  up  each  inequality  of  expression  with 
the  flood  tide  of  calm  and  unselfish  emotion.  Xaripha  turned 
with  a  sigh,  and  placed  the  lamp  against  the  wall. 

"  Indeed,  senorita,  you  are  very  beautiful,"  exclaimed 
Xaripha,  taking  the  hand  of  Isabel.  "  More  beautiful  than  I 
had  dreamed  of;  I  wonder  not  at  any  one  loving  you.  I 
should  rather  wonder  at  any  one  seeing  you  and  not  loving 
you — you  are  made  to  be  loved.  But,"  continued  Xaripha, 
seeing  the  puzzled  expression  of  the  sister's  countenances, 
"  you  are  waiting  for  an  explanation  of  my  presence  here,  while 
I  am  detaining  you  with  my  idle  admiration ;  and  yet  it  is  not 
wholly  idle  nor  useless.  There  is  a  meaning  in  my  admira 
tion,  to  me  at  least :  it  does  me  good  to  admire  your  beauty — 
to  admit  it  fully — to  bow  to  it." 

Xaripha  spoke  passionately,  paused  for   a  moment,  an< 
again  looked  moodily  at  Isabel. 

"  And  you,  too,  senorita,"  she  exclaimed,  turning  quickl; 
and  with  a  pleasant  smile  to  Juanita — "  you,  too,  are  beauti 
ful — your  beauty  is  yet  in  bud ;  but  much  I  pity  any  woman 
who  shall  have  you  for  a  rival.  But,  come ;  why  should  we 
stand  here  so  awkwardly  ?"  And  twining  her  arms  around  the 
sisters,  the  young  Moorish  girl  pulled  them  down  to  a  seat 
on  the  cushions. 

"You  know  my  father,  Abdallah?"  she  inquired.  The 
house  adjoining  is  ours.  To-night  I  could  not  sleep ;  1  rose 
from  rny  couch  and  ascended  the  terrace.  I  saw  a  ladder 


234  THE     BERBER. 

resting  against  the  turret  wall.  I  climbed  up  it,  when  to  my 
astonishment  I  found  another  ladder  of  ropes  leading  down 
to  your  terrace.  I  knew  that  it  must  have  been  placed  there 
by  my  old  nurse  and  slave: — she  whom  you  saw.  I  descend 
ed.  Thank  God,  I  arrived  in  time  to  save  you " 

A  shudder  ran  through  the  frame  of  Xaripha ;  she  paused 
again,  and  closed  her  eyes. 

"  From  what '?"  demanded  Juanita.  "  What  was  the 
danger  ?" 

"  From  death.  Fatima  was  about  to  take  the  life  of  your 
sister — a  moment  more,  and  the  keen  blade  would  have  been 
buried  in  her  breast." 

"  Ah !  say  you  so  ?  And  for  what  reason  ?  Who  could 
have  prompted  her  ?" 

"  No  one.  She  is  ignorant — prejudiced — full  of  strange 
notions,  and  somewhat  infirm  of  intellect ;  and  on  one  subject 
she  can  hardly  be  considered  in  her  right  mind." 

"  Poor  creature !"  exclaimed  Juanita,  "  she  is  then  a 
maniac." 

"  No,  not  so,"  replied  Xaripha.  "  Allah  has  not  wholly 
called  her  soul  to  himself,  but  he  has  cast  a  shadow  upon  it, 
and  that  shadow  is  her  love  for  me;  she  dotes  on  me — she 
sees  nothing  else  in  the  world  but  me ;  she  lives  for  me — she 
would  die  for  me." 

"  But  why  should  she  attempt  my  life  ?"  demanded  Isabel. 

"  Ah  !  poor  Fatima  !  she  is  jealous." 

"  Jealous !  of  whom  ?" 

"Jealous  of  you.  She  cannot  bear  that  any  one  more 
beautiful  than  I  am  should  live."  Xaripha  spoke  hesitating 
ly,  while  the  blood  rushed  to  her  cheeks. 


A     TALE     OF    MOROCCO.  235 

Isabel  mused  for  a  moment.  "  Has  this  slave  of  yours 
ever  seen  us  before  V9 

"I  believe  that  she  has  seen  you,  senorita,"  replied  Xa- 
ripha.  "  I  know  not  that  she  has  seen  your  sister." 

"  Strange !"  murmured  Isabel.  "  When  and  how,  think  you, 
has  she  seen  me  V9 

"  At  sunset,  from  the  loop-hole  of  the  turret.". 

Isabel  looked  inquiringly  at  the  speaker.  Xaripha's  brow 
became  crimson,  and  her  eyes  fell  beneath  the  Spanish  girl's 
glance. 

Isabel's  face  lighted  up  with  a  peculiar  expression :  she 
threw  her  arms  around  Xaripha  and  embraced  her. 

"  I  think  I  begin  to  comprehend  Fatima's  groundless  jea 
lousy,"  she  whispered. 

"  Groundless  ]"  exclaimed  Xaripha,  raising  her  head. 

But  further  question  was  cut  short  by  Juanita,  who 
raised  her  hand  for  silence,  and  uttered  a  low  "  Hist !" 

Again  there  was  a  sound  as  of  something  falling  into  the 
court.  Juanita  rushed  out  of  the  room,  and  in  a  moment  re 
turned  with  a  piece  of  paper,  on  which  was  written  in  Spanish : 
"  Danger  is  at  hand — open  the  door — I  dare  not  knock — 
open  quickly,  I  must  see  you." 

"What  can  it  mean]"  exclaimed  Isabel;  "can  this  be 
from  Hassan1?" 

"  Not  so,"  replied  Juanita,  who  still  held  the  note  in  her 
hand.  "  Tis  from  the  Berber ;"  and  the  young  girl  turned  to 
step  into  the  skeffa,  or  small  vestibule,  leading  to  the  door. 
But  Xaripha  and  Isabel  both  stretched  out  their  hands  to 
intercept  her  movements. 


236  THE    BERBER. 

"Hold!"  exclaimed  the  elder  sister.  "  Have  a  care — you 
may  be  deceived.  Perhaps  this  is  some  trick  of  our  cousin 
Orsolo." 

Juanita  hesitated  an  instant.  "I  cannot  be  deceived,"  she 
replied,  pointing  to  a  few  words  in  pencil  at  the  bottom  of 
the  note. 

"  But  I  understand  it  not,"  said  Isabel,  taking  the  paper. 
"  '  A  ride  on  a  black  steed,  and  a  kiss  between  the  ground 
and  the  saddle.' — What  does  it  mean  ?" 

The  color  overspread  Juanita's  cheek ;  but  turning,  she  made 
an  impatient  gesture  in  reply,  and  darted  across  the  court  into 
the  dark  skeffa  leading  to  the  street  door.  A  slight  tap  of  the 
finger  was  heard,  and  Juanita,  with  a  trembling  hand  and  a 
beating  heart,  drew  back  the  bolts.  The  door  was  at  once 
pushed  open  from  the  outside,  giving  admission  to  a  person 
who  will  be  introduced  more  appropriately,  perhaps,  to  the 
reader  in  a  new  chapter. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  237 


CHAPTER    XX. 


THE  stranger  entered,  and  closing  with  a  rapid  motion  the 
door  behind  him,  instantly  threw  his  arms  around  the  young 
girl  with  a  movement  which,  in  the  dim  light  of  the  skeffa, 
she  could  neither  see  nor  elude. 

Juanita  trembled  and  struggled,  although  she  shrieked  not, 
nor  felt  fear  as  he  pressed  her  to  his  breast,  and  deliberately 
bowed  his  mouth  to  her  lips.  It  was  but  the  instinct  of  de 
licacy,  and  a  sentiment  of  feminine  pride,  and  Juanita  felt 
with  a  thrill  of  fear  that  these  were  failing  her,  and  that  there 
was  creeping  over  her  a  reckless  and  dreamy  sensation — a 
disposition  to  return  an  embrace  which  she  knew  she  ought  to 
resent  as  a  deadly  insult. 

"  Fear  not,  senorita,  you  are  not  in  the  arms  of  your  ad 
mirer,  the  kaid,"  he  whispered  in  a  voice  that  thrilled  through 
every  nerve  of  Juanita's  frame. 

There  was  something  however  in  the  remark  that  aroused 
her  spirit,  and  throwing  back  her  head  she  struggled  to 
free  herself. 

"  Unhand  me,"  she  exclaimed  energetically  ;  "  this  is  cruel 


— uasenerous- 


"  And  ill-timed,  you  may  say,  with  equal  truth,"  said  the 
young   man,  deliberately  releasing  her  from  his  arms.     "I 


238  THE     BERBER. 

grant  it  all,  senorita,  but  the  taste  of  what  you  wot  of  still 
lingers  on  my  lips,  and  the  temptation  is  strong  to  renew  its 
freshness.  However,  I  will  let  you  go  free  now ;  but  mind 
you,  sefiorita,  I  shall  give  you  a  thousand  kisses  yet — aye,  a 
thousand  times  a  thousand !  And  what  is  more,  you  shall  re 
turn  them  all ;  nay,  sefiorita,  I  feel  the  boiling  of  your  blood, 
and  I  see  even  in  this  gloom  the  flash  of  your  eyes,  but  it 
will  not  avail  to  resist.  I  have  been  thinking  over  the  matter 
since  I  saw  you,  and  I  am  determined  that  you  shall  love  me — 
desperately  love  me.  I  am  resolved  that  it  shall  be  so.  But 
come,  we  have  no  time  to  talk  about  it  now — time  presses, 
and  death,  or  worse  than  death,  will  soon  be  knocking  at  the 
door." 

A  strange  whirl  of  emotions  filled  the  young  girl's  breast. 
In  all  her  dreams  of  love — and  she  had  had  her  dreams,  young 
as  she  was — the  possibility  of  being  wooed  in  such  an  abrupt, 
off-hand,  even  impudent  manner,  had  never  occurred  to  her. 
Her  pride  was  touched — her  delicacy  offended — still  there  was 
a  charm  in  the  very  manner  of  the  young  man  who  so  boldly 
avowed  his  determination  to  compel  her  love.  Juanita  felt 
vexed  at  being  thus  resolutely  and  familiarly  treated ;  but  still 
more  vexed  at  feeling  her  indignation  qualified  by  a  sentiment 
of  secret  pleasure.  Without  reply  she  led  the  way  across  the 
court.  The  Berber  followed,  pausing  at  the  threshold  of  the 
room,  and  letting  his  eyes  fall,  with  an  expression  of  surprise, 
upon  the  figure  of  Xaripha. 

The  maiden  had  been  educated  in  none  of  the  prejudices 
of  her  countrywomen;  but  the  appearance  of  the  young  and 
handsome  stranger,  who  had  the  garb  and  mien  of  a  Moor, 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  239 

somewhat  startled  her.  Hastily  loosing  the  silken  hand- 
k«rchief  from  around  her  head,  she  let  the  folds  fall  over  her 
face,  so  as  to  conceal  all  but  the  large  black  eyes. 

Juanita,  in  answer  to  the  young  man's  glance  of  inquiry, 
introduced  him  to  her  sister  and  Xaripha. 

"  The  daughter  of  my  friend  Abdallah,"  said  the  young 
man,  bowing  with  grace,  and  advancing  to  Xaripha,  "  will  not 
think  that  I  fail  to  honor  her  extraordinary  beauty,  when  I  say 
that  she  must  depart  at  once.  Your  countryman  has  renounc 
ed  his  religion !"  he  continued,  turning  to  the  sisters,  "  and  he 
has  betrayed  your  secret.  By  this  time  the  guard  of  the  kaid 
of  the  slaves  is  on  its  way  hither  for  your  apprehension." 

"Ha!  can  it  be1?"  exclaimed  Isabel;  "oh  how  weak  and 
wicked  was  the  impulse  that  bade  me  speak  to  him." 

"  'Twas  generous,  senorita,"  replied  the  Berber,  "  and  there 
fore  it  could  not  have  been  wrong." 

"  Alas !"  said  Isabel,  "  I  have  not  even  that  excuse ;  it  was 
a  mere  thoughtless,  motiveless  impulse.  'Twas  the  familiar 
tone — the  voice  of  a  countryman — the  sound  of  my  native 
tongue,  that  forced  his  name  from  my  lips  without  will  or  pur 
pose  of  mine.  Oh  'twas  weak — 'twas  wicked  to  risk  so  much 
— to  peril  this  dear  child's  safety  as  well  as  my  own !" 

Xaripha  stood  in  silence,  listening  to  the  conversation. 
Few  girls  in  her  position — bearing  her  supposed  relations  to 
Isabel— could  have  repressed  an  emotion  of  pleasure  at  the 
prospect  of  her  rival's  removal  from  her  path.  But  Xaripha 
was  generous  and  pure  of  soul ;  quick  and  passionate  in  tempera 
ment,  like  all  her  race  ;  and  with  the  germs  of  evil  lying  in  her 
breast,  her  education  had  afforded  no  opportunity  for  the  de- 


240  THE     BERBER. 

velopment  of  any  but  the  better  qualities  of  her  heart.  With 
out  companions  of  her  own  sex — sole  mistress  of  her  father's 
.household — sole  object  of  his  affections— her  life  had  been  a 
calm  and  balmy  spring  day,  varied  only  by  the  flashes  of 
brighter  sunshine,  that  occasionally  gleamed  through  the 
mists  of  her  imagination. 

"  What  do  you  propose  shall  be  done  f  interposed  Xari- 
pha,  addressing  the  Berber.  "The  kaid  will  care  nothing  for  the 
sanctity  of  a  house  known  to  be  uninhabited  by  Moors,  and  the 
door  will  yield  to  a  push." 

"  We  must  leave  the  house,"  replied  the  Berber,  "and  that 
quickly.  On  the  further  side  of  this  wall  is  a  vacant  space, 
where  stands  the  dragon  tree  you  must  have  often  seen  from 
your  terrace,  and  beyond  that  an  old,  crumbling,  uninhabited 
house,  replied  the  Berber — 'tis  my  plan  to  lower  these  two 
ladies  to  the  terrace  of  that  house,  where  they  can  remain 
for  a  day  or  two  unmolested.  It  can  be  very  easily  done,"  and 
the  Berber  produced  a  coil  of  rope  made  of  strips  of  Cordo 
van  leather,  from  beneath  his  djellabeah. 

"  No,"  exclaimed  Xaripha,  "  they  shall  go  with  me." 
"It  is  impossible,  senorita,"  replied  the  Berber.  "The 
guard  is  by  this  time  in  the  street :  and  if  not,  there  are  pass 
ers  by  who  would  note  every  motion.  You  can  reach  your 
door  in  safety;  but  it  would  not  answer  for  these  ladies  to 
attempt  it." 

"  We  need  not  go  by  the  street,"  replied  Xaripha.  "  We 
will  leave  this  house  in  the  way  in  which  I  entered  it — over 
the  turret  yonder,  by  a  ladder  of  rope." 

"  Ha !"  exclaimed  the  Berber,  laughing,  "  that  will  do — that 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  241 

will  circumvent  them  ;  but  what  will  Abdallah  say  ? — he  may 
not  like  the  risk.  However,  it  is  only  for  a  day,  when  ano 
ther  asylum  may  be  found." 

Xaripha's  assurances  soon  removed  all  scruples  in  relation 
to  her  father,  from  the  minds  of  the  sisters.  The  Berber  still 
had  his  doubts  as  to  whether  Abdallah  would  be  willing  to  run 
the  risk  of  secreting  them  in  his  own  house  for  any  length 
of  time ;  but  at  the  moment  Xaripha's  generous  proposition 
was  not  to  be  refused,  and  he  urged  its  instant  acceptance. 

"I  fear  you  will  not  think  me  very  gallant  in  pressing 
your  departure,"  he  said ;  "  but  darkness  is  a  good  cover  to 
other  things  than  love-making,  and  much  I  fear  we  shall  have 
but  little  of  it.  Would  that  your  escalade  could  be  made  in 
the  daylight — I  would  not  envy  the  patriarch  Jacob  his  vision." 

Collecting  a  few  articles  of  apparel,  and  putting  out  the 
light,  the  sisters  led  the  way  to  the  terrace,  followed  by  Xa- 
ripha  and  the  Berber. 

Xariphawas  the  first  to  attempt  the  ladder:  a'dozen  loops, 
attached  to  the  principal  cord,  made  as  many  steps,  and  in  a 
moment  she  was  at  the  top  of  the  tower.  Isabel  next  essayed 
the  ascent,  which  she  accomplished  with  rather  more  difficulty, 
but  in  equal  safety. 

Juanita's  foot  was  in  the  loop,  when  the  Berber,  who  had 
been  steadying  the  rope  for  her  sister,  took  her  arm  and 
drew  her  back. 

"  One  moment,  senorita,"  he  exclaimed.  "  I  have  some 
thing  to  say  to  you.  You  will  see  the  rais ;  tell  him  that  I 
have  received  his  messages,  but  that  it  has  been  impossible  for 
me  to  meet  him.  Indeed,  at  present  it  would  be  useless.  I 

11 


242  THE     BERBER. 

know  what  he  requires,  but  the  soltan's  forces  have  gathered 
in  overwhelming  numbers,  and  my  men  are  shut  up  in  the 
hills.  Tell  him  he  must  wait  a  few  days,  when  I  shall  be  in  a 
condition  to  afford  him  the  assistance  he  desires." 

"But  you,"  exclaimed  Juanita;  "are  you  in  no  danger 
here  ?"  And  the  maiden  laid  her  hand  upon  the  young  man's 
arm. 

"  In  danger,  it  may  be,"  he  replied ;  "  but  it  matters  not — 
I  have  my  objects,  and  I  must  run  some  risk." 

"  Be  not  overbold,"  replied  Juanita. 

"  Pear  not,  senorita.  I  have  resources  and  I  have  friends. 
Aye,  even  in  this  very  city,  if  I  chose  to  give  the  word,  I 
could  create  such  a  commotion  as  has  not  disturbed  the  re 
pose  of  the  soltan  for  many  a  day.  There  are  hundreds  of 
Berbers  who,  although  of  different  tribes,  and  hereditary  ene 
mies  in  the  hills,  would,  here  in  the  city,  rally,  in  an  instant,  to 
the  call  of  the  chief  of  the  Beni  Mozarg.  But  that  would  be  a 
small  game.  '  I,  senorita,  am  playing  for  a  larger  stake." 

"  And  that  stake "  exclaimed  Juanita  with  interest. 

"  That  stake,  senorita,"  interrupted  the  Berber,  "  is  empire. 
Corne  closer  to  me  and  I'll  whisper  my  secret.  Let  me  se 
cure  the  union  of  our  tribes  and  I  will  drive  these  Mussul 
man  dogs — these  Shereefs  with  their  pretended  descent  from 
their  Prophet — back  to  their  deserts.  I  will  build  up  what  their 
jealousy  has  torn  down.  I  will  replace  what  their  bigotry  has 
destroyed.  I  will  furrow  this  waste,  desolate  Empire  with  the 
marks  of  industry.  I  will  adorn  it  with  the  monuments  of 
science  and  art.  I  will  cover  it  with  cities,  and  I  will  fill  the 
cities  with  the  temples  of  Christ." 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  243 

"  You,  a  Christian  ?"  eagerly  exclaimed  Juanita. 

"  Did  you  think  me  a  paynim  or  a  pagan,  seiiorita  1  Know 
you  not  that  this  land  was  once  Christian,  and  that  some  few 
of  our  tribes  still  retain  a  spark  from  the  old  altars  1  Yes,  I 
am  a  Christian,  but  to  one  of  your  church  I  might  better  be 
without  any  religion.  Better  be  a  heathen  than  a  heretic  ! 
Ha!  seiiorita'?" 

"  So  would  say  our  churchmen  at  home,"  replied  Juanita, 
"but  I  have  often  been  called  a  heretic  myself  by  Father 
Padilla,  and  I  fear  I  should  not  hate  you  as  I  ought.  But  how 
is  it  that  you  are  a  heretic,  senor  ]  Met-hinks  I  have  heard 
that  St.  Augustine  and  St.  Cyprian  were  Fathers  of  the 
African  church. 

"You  are  right,"  replied  the  Berber,  "but  the  Donatists 
were  numerous,  and  when  the  Vandals,  who  were  also  followers 
of  the  doctrines  of  Arius,  came  to  their  assistance,  your  Latin 
Trinitarians  were  swept  from  the  field.  True,  in  the  days  of 
Justinian  the  arms  of  Belisarius  restored  the  supremacy  and 
the  dogmas  of  the  Roman  Church  ;  but  our  religion  did  not  die 
with  the  Arian  martyrs.  It  was  terribly  persecuted,  but  it 
took  refuge  in  the  Atlas,  and  still  lives.  Hast  ever  heard  of 
Arius,  seiiorita'? 

"  Never,"  replied  Juanita. 

"  And  I  dare  say  there  are  hundreds  of  priests  in  Spain 
who  never  heard  of  his  name ;  so  do  not  take  shame  for  your 
ignorance.  I  will  tell  you  all  about  him  some  day,  but  now  it 
is  no  time  to  be  preaching  a  sermon,  when  I  ought  to  be  im 
proving  my  time  with  vows  and  prayers." 

"  The  young  man  drew  the  graceful,  delicate  figure  of  the 
maiden  closer  to  him. 


244  THE     BERBER. 

"  Vows,  senor ;  to  what  saint  ?" 

"  Oh,  to  the  last  one  that  I  have  added  to  my  calendar — 
to  a  beautiful  Spanish  saint." 

"  Ah,"  replied  Juanita,  "  I  am  afraid  you  are  too  much  of 
a  heretic  to  worship  in  good  faith  at  an  orthodox  shrine." 

"  Not  so,"  said  the  Berber ;  "  although  an  Arian  in  reli 
gion,  I  am  truly  a  Catholic  in  love,  and  my  vows  to-night  are 
of  an  amatory  character.  Will  you  hear  them?"  whispered  the 
young  man,  "  dearest  Juanita,  will  you  hear  them  ?  I  vow 
that  I  love  you — I  adore  you — I  worship  you — I " 

"  Hush !"  exclaimed  Juanita,  half  frightened  at  the  thrill 
of  pleasure  that  made  her  nerves  vibrate  like  harp  strings. 
"  Hush  !  enough  of  your  vows — come  to  your  prayers." 

"  Oh,  my  prayers  !  I  will  defer  them  until  some  more  fit 
ting  time,  except  one one  little  prayer." 

"  What  is  that  ?"  demanded  the  maiden,  as  the  Berber 
pressed  her  slightly  resisting  form  closer  to  his  breast. 

"  That  you  will  grant  me  what  you  refused  just  now," 
whispered  the  young  man. 

Juanita  started  back,  and  with  a  sudden  and  rapid  motion 
freed  herself  from  his  arms. 

"  Understand  me,  senor,"  exclaimed  the  young  girl,  laying 
her  hand  upon  his  arm; "I  will  give  you  a  kiss  willingly — 
voluntarily,  and  because  I  choose  to  do  so ;  but  I  will  not  be 
wheedled  into  it,  nor  forced  into  it."  And  Juanita  lightly 
touched  her  mouth  to  the  Berber's  lips,  and  then  bounded  back 
out  of  his  reach. 

"Hueno,  senorita !"  exclaimed  the  Berber;  "spiritedly 
done,  and  as  unlike  your  coy  but  warm  and  yielding  country- 


A     TALE     OF    MOROCCO.  245 

women  as  an  honest  man  could  wish.  Buenof"  And  the 
young  man  leaned  against  the  battlements,  and  indulged  in  a 
hearty,  boyish  laugh. 

Juanita  knew  not  whether  to  laugh  or  cry  ;  on  the  one 
hand  was  the  contagious  influence  in  the  young  man's  low  but 
clear  and  peculiarly  ringing  tones,  on  the  other  was  a  degree 
of  vexation  with  him,  for  the  equivocal  manner  in  which  he 
had  received  her  favor,  and  with  herself  for  granting  it. 

"  I  have  traveled  in  your  country,  senorita.  }Tis  but  a  year 
since  I  made  a  pilgrimage  to  the  former  homes  of  my  Vandal 
and  Berber  ancestors.  I  saw  much  of  your  countrywomen, 
and  I  found  but  two  ways  of  dealing  with  them — either  to 
force  them  or  to  coax  them.  But  I  have  learned  something 
new  to-night,  and  if  I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  you  again,  I  shall 
respectfully  present  a  written  petition." 

"  Take  care  that  it  is  not  spurned  for  its  insolence,"  replied 
Juanita,  with  spirit. 

"  Nay,  senorita,  be  not  offended,"  said  the  Berber — advanc 
ing  and  taking  her  hand — "  I  did  but  jest.  Bat  hark there 

is  a  noise  at  the  door the  kaid  has  arrived,  and  it  is  time 

to  ascend, all  angels  go  up  when  their  mission  is  accom 
plished;  yours  is  finished  for  to-night,  you  have  laid  a  coal  on 

the  altar,  and  now  you  can  mount  heavenward trust  me, 

dearest  Juanita,  the  flame  shall  not  die." 

"  Be  sure  to  tell  the  rais,  Hassan  Herach,"  he  continued, 
"  that  there  is  a  fitting  house  to  the  left  of  the  Bab  el  Gharb, 
or  west  gate." 

"  But  do  you  not  go  with  us  into  Abdallah's  house  ?  Hark ! 
there  is  Orsolo's  voice." 


246  THE      BERBER. 

"  No  "  replied  the  Berber,  "  it  would  be  unseemly  for  me  to 
enter  a  Moorish  house  over  the  terrace.  Not  that  Abdallah  is 
any  more  of  a  Mohammedan  than  either  of  us ;  but  I  have  an 
engagement  beyond  the  walls,  which  I  must  fulfil  ere  it  be  too 
light,  and  yon  guard  will  be  in  the  street  until  sunrise." 

"  Hark,  again,"  exclaimed  Juanita,  "  there  is  Orsolo's  voice 
in  a  louder  tone.  Oh !  if  they  force  the  door  and  find  you  here !" 

"  Have  no  fear,  senorita.  They  will  find  it  difficult  to  fol 
low  me.  Do  you  know  that  I  can  fly  ?" 

"Oh!  stop  not  to  trifle  thus,"  exclaimed  Juanita,  grasping 
the  Berber's  arm; "  in  a  moment  they  will  force  the  door !" 

"I  am  not  trifling,  senorita.  Ask  the  Moors,  they  will  tell 
you  that  amo»g  my  other  accomplishments  I  number  the  art  of 
flying  like  a  bird.  I  like  to  encourage  the  report.  The  repu 
tation  has  already  served  me  in  place  of  wings.  But  if  I  can 
not  fly,  I  can  do  something  very  much  like  it,  as  I  will  show 
you.  Do  you  see  that  tree  ?"  said  the  Berber,  pointing  to  a 
tall  dragon  tree  with  its  half  dozen  short  stumpy  arms  radiating 
from  the  top,  each  about  five  or  six  feet  in  length,  and  as  large 
at  the  outer  end  as  where  they  issued  from  the  trunk.  "  You 
can  barely  perceive  the  outline  of  it,  but  to  my  Berber  eye  'tis 
as  plain  as  in  daylight.  You  shall  see  how  that  tree  shall  open 
a  door  for  my  escape." 

So  saying  the  Berber  seized  the  coil  of  rope  that  he  carried, 
and  jumping  upon  the  battlement,  swung  it  round  his  head  and 
launched  the  noose  at  the  arms  of  the  dragon  tree.  The  loop 
caught  upon  one  of  the  sturdy  horizontal  limbs,  and  pulling 
upon  it,  the  Berber  satisfied  himself  that  it  was  securely  plac 
ed.  Fastening  the  other  end  around  his  arm  he  sprang  down 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  247 

upon  the  terrace  and  seized  the  rope  leading  up  to  the  turret. 

"  Mount,  senorita,"  he  exclaimed,  "  mount  while  I  steady 
the  rope  for  you.  They  are  growing  impatient  at  the  door — 
draw  up  the  cord,  and  detach  it  from  the  turret.  Adios,  tier- 
no  bien  mio,  adios." 

As  rapidly  as  she  could  place  her  feet  in  the  loops  the 
young  girl  sprang  up  the  ladder.  As  soon  as  her  foot  was  on 
the  flat  roof  of  the  tower  she  drew  up  the  cords  by  which  she 
had  ascended,  and  detaching  them  from  their  fastenings,  threw 
them  over  on  the  other  side  upon  the  terrace. 

Isabel  was  standing  on  the  top  round  of  the  short  ladder, 
impatiently  awaiting  the  appearance  of  her  sister.  "  Gracias 
a  Dios  /"  she  exclaimed,  "  you  have  come  at  last.  What  made 
you  stay  so  long  f 

"  Hush !"  replied  Juanita,  turning  and  throwing  herself 
flat  on  the  turret,  with  her  head  over  the  edge.  Directly  be 
low  her,  and  almost  within  reach  of  her  arm,  was  the  dark 
figure  of  the  Berber  standing  upon  the  narrow  battlement.  A 
crash  was  heard  at  the  door,  and  half  a  dozen  men  rushed  into 
the  court.  At  the  same  instant  she  saw  the  figure  of  the  Ber 
ber  spring  from  the  wall  on  which  he  was  standing,  sweep 
downward  in  a  course  like  a  pendulum,  rise  again  in  a  corres 
ponding  arch,  and  land  like  a  bird  on  the  low  terrace  of  an  op 
posite  house — dart  along  it,  and  throwing  himself  over  the  fur 
ther  wall,  disappear  in  the  street  beyond. 

The  chaunt  of  the  rnuedden  floated  upon  the  morning  air. 
"  A-i-a-e  salah  !  A-i-a-e  salah  !  A-i-are  ala  el  felak  !  A-i-a-e 
ala  el  felak  !  Es  saldtou  hhdiroun  minn  en  ndoum  !  Es  sa- 
Idtou  hhairoun  minn  en  ndoum  !  Come  to  prayers  !  Come  to 


248  THE     BERBER. 

prayers !  Come  to  the  temple !  Come  to  the  temple !  Pray 
er  is  better  than  sleep  !  Prayer  is  better  than  sleep !  La  ila- 
hah  ila  Allah  I  There  is  no  other  God  than  God  !" 

Juanita  sprang  over  the  side  of  the  turret,  and  rejoined  her 
sister  and  Xaripha  on  the  terrace. 


A    TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  249 


CHAPTER    XXI. 


THE  perplexity  of  the  worthy  kaid  of  the  gates  was  at  its 
height  when  he  learned  the  events  of  the  night.  He  was  no 
coward,  but  he  knew  the  risk  of  being  accused  of  harboring  the 
sisters — he  knew  the  precarious  tenure  by  which  he  held  the 
soltan's  favor,  and  he  trembled  for  the  success  of  his  long 
cherished  plans  for  leaving  the  country  with  his  daughter  and 
his  gold. 

As  soon  as  it  was  light  he  set  out  to  visit  the  rais.  He  had 
not  far  to  go.  Hassan,  excited  beyond  all  possibility  of  sleep, 
by  love,  mingled  with  anxiety  for  the  safety  of  the  object 
of  his  strong,  deep  passion,  had  passed  a  wakeful  night.  Rest 
less  and  feverish,  he  sallied  into  the  street,  when  by  an  irresis- 
table  attraction  his  feet  were  directed  involuntarily  towards  the 
dwelling  of  the  graceful  Andaluza.  It  was  with  difficulty  that 
Abdallah  could  induce  him  to  turn  back  to  his  own  house, 
even  upon  the  assurance  that  for  the  time  both  the  maidens 
were  safe. 

"  But  where  are  they  1  Tell  me  where  I  shall  find  them," 
wildly  exclaimed  the  rais,  losing  for  the  moment  his  habi 
tual  expression  of  calm  gravity. 

"  I  will  tell  you  nothing,"  replied  Abdallah,  "  until  you 
11* 


250  THE     BERBER. 

come  out  of  the  streets.  In  your  own  house  we  can  talk 
without  being  observed — here  each  moment  is  filled  with 
danger." 

Upon  entering  the  house  the  kaid  looked  carefully  to  the 
fastening  of  the  door,  and  then  drawing  Hassan  and  his  bro 
ther  into  an  inner  room,  he  told  them  the  story  of  the  unsuc 
cessful  attempt  of  the  kaid  of  the  slaves  and  his  new  coadju 
tor,  the  renegade  don. 

"  The  maidens  shall  come  here  at  once,"  said  the  rais.  "  I 
will  bring  them  openly,  and  defend  them  with  my  life.  I  will 
go  to  the  soltan  and  demand  that  the  villains  be  punished  for 
breaking  into  a  door  of  mine." 

"  You  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  replied  Abdallah. 

"  And  who  shall  prevent  me  ?"  fiercely  demanded  the 
rais. 

" I  will;"  replied  the  kaid ;  "  your  brother;  the  girls  them 
selves  ;  every  consideration  of  prudence !  To  do  so  would  be 

to  bring  ruin  upon  all  heads to  throw  your  captives  into 

the  hands  of  their  enemies to  lose  your  own  life,  per 
chance certainly  to  give  your  brother  into  slavery,  and 

utterly  destroy  my  only  chance  of  leaving  the  country .  No, 
you  will  do  no  such  thing  !" 

"  What,  then,  shall  be  done  ?"  demanded  the  rais. 

"  Trust  to  time  and  the  Berber,"  replied  Abdallah. 

"  Aye,  and  in  the  meantime  stand  exposed  to  the  attacks 
of  the  kaid,  aided  perhaps  by  this  cursed  renegade." 

"  But  we  must  baffle  him,"  replied  Abdallah.  "  We  must 
remove  them  with  all  secrecy  to  a  new  hiding  place.  The 
Berber  sends  word  that  there  is  a  fitting  house  by  the  Bab  el 


A    TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  251 

Gharb.  I  will  go  and  see  to  it.  If  we  cannot  get  that,  we 
can  some  other.  Thanks  to  the  ignorant  and  brutal  despo 
tism  that  weighs  upon  us,  there  are  empty  houses  enough  to 
be  had  almost  for  the  asking.  I  will  hire  one,  and  your  cap 
tives  can  be  removed  to  it  to-night.  If  we  can  get  the  house 
indicated  by  the  Berber,  they  will  be  close  to  the  gate,  which  I 
can  open  to  them  at  any  time  when  the  Berber  shall  have  a 
party  ready  to  receive  them  and  secure  their  retreat  to  the 
hills.  It  would  be  worse  than  fool-hardiness  to  attempt  to 
leave  the  city  until  the  chief  of  the  Beni  Mozarg  gives  the 
signal." 

The  advice  of  the  philosophic  Abdallah  was  the  best  that 
could  be  given,  and  his  plans  were  none  the  less  sound  be 
cause  it  was  not  alone  a  regard  for  the  interests  of  the  rais  and 
his  captives  that  prompted  them.  He  was  anxious  to  get  the 
sisters  out  of  his  house,  partly  because  it  was  unsafe  for  them, 
and  because  he  considered  it  would  be  best  to  follow  the  indi 
cations  of  the  Berber,  and  partly  because  it  was  unsafe  for 
himself.  He  also  urged  that  the  rais  should  await  the  move 
ments  of  the  Berber,  partly  because  it  was  the  most  prudent 
course,  and  partly  because  it  would  give  him  time  to  close 
certain  money  transactions  with  the  Jews ;  and  to  prepare  him 
self  and  daughter  to  join  the  rais  and  his  captives  in  their 
flight. 

"  It  will  not  answer,  I  suppose,"  inquired  Hassan,  "  for  me 
to  pay  them  a  visit  at  your  house  to-day  7" 

To  this  question  the  kaid  replied  by  a  decided  negative. 
"  To-night,"  he  said,  "  you  will  come  immediately  after  El- 
aaschir,  when  the  streets  will  be  all  deserted ;  give  three 


252  THE     BERBER. 

slight  taps  at  the  door,  and  I  will  be  ready  with  your  captives, 
closely  muffled.  It  is  but  a  few  steps  to  the  Bab  el  Gharb.  I 
must  hurry  now  to  the  palace.  The  soltan,  it  is  said,  is  too  ill 
to  appear  this  morning,  but  still  there  is  no  confidence  to  be 
placed  in  the  hareem  reports,  and  the  old  tiger  may  take  it 
into  his  head  to  show  himself.  As  soon  as  I  am  free  I  will 
seek  the  house  by  the  gate  of  the  west,  and  engage  it." 

It  was  clear  that,  under  the  circumstances,  no  better  con 
clusions  could  be  arrived  at.  Abdallah  departed,  and  the  rais 
was  compelled  to  await  in  concealed  anxiety  the  passing  of  the 
day.  His  brother  was  not  less  anxious,  and  still  more  impa 
tient  of  the  confinement  and  restraint.  To  Edward  the  hours 
seemed  like  weeks,  that  separated  him  from  Xaripha.  He  had 
not  that  control  of  his  passions  and  feelings  that  marked  the 
character  of  his  brother.  The  volcanic  elements  in  him  were 
perhaps  not  more  abundant  or  more  fiery,  but  the  crust  over 
the  crater  was  thinner  and  more  liable  to  rupture. 

The  impatience  of  the  brothers  was  somewhat  relieved, 
and  the  current  of  their  thoughts  diverted,  by  a  salute  of 
twelve  guns  from  the  palace  battery,  followed  by  a  great  tu 
mult  in  the  streets.  There  were  the  shouts  of  the  populace, 
the  sound  of  musical  instruments,  and  the  reports  of  musket 
ry.  The  rais  stepped  out  to  inquire  the  cause  of  the  commo 
tion.  In  a  few  minutes  he  returned,  and  with  marks  of  inte 
rest  in  his  manner  desired  his  brother  to  come  with  him,  but 
first  to  muffle  up  his  face,  as  if  suffering  from  pain,  and  to 
draw  the  hood  of  his  djellabeah  over  his  head. 

Accompanied  by  Selim,  the  brothers  made  a  detour 
through  the  streets,  and  took  a  position  near  the  entrance  to 


A      TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  253 

the  great  mosque.  In  a  few  minutes  the  head  of  a  noisy  pro 
cession  debouched  into  the  square.  First  came  two  or  three 
hundred  mounted  men,  armed  with  muskets,  which,  as  rapidly 
as  possible,  they  loaded  with  loose  powder,  turned  in  from  the 
hand,  without  wadding,  and  fired  in  the  air.  Behind  them  ad 
vanced  a  dozen  musicians,  industriously  thumping  in  very 
quick  time  as  many  drums,  of  various  sizes.  The  discord 
would  have  been  terrible  had  it  not  been  overwhelmed  by  the 
shouts  of  the  ragged  crowd  who  followed  them,  and  in  the 
midst  of  which  rode  the  tall  gaunt  figure  of  Don  Diego  de 
Orsolo.  He  was  mounted  on  a  large  horse,  of  fine  action,  and 
superbly  caparisoned.  The  saddle  housings  were  of  red  cloth, 
embroidered  with  gold  thread.  The  girths  and  breast  bands 
were  of  silk,  worked  with  verses  from  the  Koran.  The  bridle 
and  head  stall  were  of  plated  morocco  leather,  and  glittered 
with  gold  and  precious  stones.  Two  distinguished  Imaums,  or 
expounders  of  the  law,  led  the  prancing  barb.  The  don  was 
clothed  in  Moorish  costume — yellow  slippers,  legs  bare  to  the 
knee,  the  haick  of  white  woollen,  and  a  large  turban  of  fine 
linen.  His  countenance  was  ghastly  pale  and  cadaverous ;  his 
cheeks  hollow,  his  eyes  sunken,  and  over  all  was  diffused  an 
expression  of  rage,  remorse  and  fear,  that  made  him  look 
more  like  a  fiend  than  a  man. 

As  the  procession  turned  into  the  open  place  in  front  of  the 
mosque  the  renegade  caught  sight,  through  an  opening  in 
the  houses,  of  the  wooden  cross  surmounting  the  hospitium  of 
the  Spanish  friars.  A  thrill  of  mortal  terror  shot  through  his 
heart.  He  shuddered,  trembled — almost  fell  from  his  sad 
dle.  A  vision  of  eternal  punishment  burst  upon  him,  and  for 


254  THE     BERBER. 

a  few  moments  it  seemed  to  his  bewildered  senses  as  if  he  were 
already  in  the  infernal  regions,  and  that  the  struggling,  yelling 
crowds  of  upturned  faces  that  surrounded  him  were  the  actual 
legions  of  the  damned. 

The  renegade  glanced  at  a  group  of  Christian  slaves  engaged 
in  repairing  the  guard  house  of  the  millah.  Anything  except 
life  would  the  don,  who  at  heart  was  a  bigoted  Christian,  have 
given  to  change  places  with  the  meanest  one  of  that  group. 
But  it  was  too  late.  The  fatal  confession  of  a  belief  in  Allah 
and  the  Prophet  had  passed  his  lips,  and  could  the  populace 
suspect  even  a  disposition  to  recant,  he  knew  that  his  quiver 
ing  limbs  would  soon  strew  the  streets  of  the  city. 

He  threw  an  agonized  glance  over  the  crowd.  It  fell  upon 
the  figure  of  the  rais.  Edward  was  so  closely  enveloped  in  his 
djellabeah  that  his  features  could  not  be  seen,  but  the  resem 
blance  between  the  brothers  was  so  close  that  the  don  doubt 
ed  not  that  he  saw  in  the  rais  the  face  and  figure  of  his  hated 
rival.  Instantly  the  expression  of  the  renegade's  countenance 
changed  from  desperate  anguish  to  intense  hatred.  He  would 
have  stopped  and  indicated  the  object  of  his  vengeance,  but  he 
was  swept  along  by  the  shouting  crowds  to  the  door  of  the 
mosque,  where  with  difficulty  a  passage  was  cleared  for  him 
into  the  sacred  edifice.  The  active  exertions  of  his  friend  the 
kaid,  however,  prevailed,  and  he  was  at  length  enabled  to  pass 
the  portal,  from  whence  he  was  conducted  to  a  small  carpet, 
such  as  the  Moors  use  to  pray  upon,  which  was  placed  upon  a 
raised  platform,  at  the  side  of  the  mehreb,  or  niche,  from  which 
the  Imaum  directs  the  prayers,  and  in  full  view  of  the  dense 
audience  filling  the  vast  court  of  the  mosque. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  255 

The  usual  confession  of  faith  was  recited  by  the  renegade, 
followed  by  the  invocation  Allahouakibar !  God  is  great!  re 
peated  in  a  dozen  different  positions — standing,  stooping  with 
hands  on  the  knees,  sitting,  and  prostrate,  with  knees,  hands, 
nose  and  forehead  on  the  ground,  intermixed  with  verses 
from  the  Koran,  and  exclamations  of  "  Sjemeo  Alldhou  limdnn 
Hamiddhhou!  God  listens  when  praise  is  given  to  him," 
concluding  with  the  prayer,  "Atahaiatdul  lahi  oud  salaouatou, 
oua  ataiabatou  assalamou  aaliikia  'ioha  ennebiyou^  oud  rahman- 
toul  lahi,  oud  barakatahou  assalamou  aali'ina,  oud  aala  aabadou 
l-ldhi  assalaheina,  aschahadou  anna  Id  Illaha  ila  Allah  ouaha- 
dahou,  oua,  aschahadou  dnna  Mouhhammedoun  abadou  oud  ras- 
soulouhou" 

"  Vigils  are  for  God  ;  so  are  prayers  and  alms.  Welfare 
and  peace  to  thee,  O  Prophet  of  God  !  May  the  mercy  and 
blessing  of  God  be  also  upon  thee.  Welfare  and  peace  to  us, 
and  to  all  the  just  and  virtuous  servants  of  God.  I  attest 
that  there  is  no  God  but  the  one  God,  and  that  Mohammed  is 
his  servant  and  Prophet." 

"  This  bodes  fresh  mischief,"  exclaimed  Hassan,  as  the  bro 
thers  withdrew  from  the  crowd,  and  returned  by  the  deserted 
streets  to  their  dwelling.  "  Did  you  notice  the  look  that  he 
threw  at  me  1" 

"  Aye,  indeed  ;  it  was  no  loving  glance.  It  may  be  that 
he  took  you  for  me :  and  yet  it  can  hardly  be.  He  cannot 
know  that  I  am  alive,  and  he  must  have  seen  you  as  captain 
of  the  corsair." 

"  I  know  not  that,"  replied  Hassan.  "  He  may  not  have 
thought  until  the  present  moment  that  you  are  living,  but 
much  I  mistake  if  he  does  not  think  so  now.  You  forget  that 


256  THE     BERBER 

he  was  captured  at  night,  closely  confined  below  deck,  and 
landed  at  Salee  at  night.  I  question  whether  he  has  ever  seen 
me  before." 

"  In  that  case,"  replied  Edward,  "  he  unquestionably  mis 
takes  you  for  me ;  and  what  his  passion  for  his  cousin  might 
not  prompt,  hate  and  jealousy  will  drive  him  to  attempt.  It 
is  to  be  hoped  that  his  power  may  not  equal  his  will." 

"  I  know  not,"  returned  the  rais,  gloomily ;  "  renegades 
are  always  in  high  favor  for  the  first  few  days  after  their  apos- 
tacy,  although  their  position  comes  to  be  miserable  enough 
and  contemptible  enough  in  the  end.  But  this  is  an  uncom 
mon  case ;  the  don  is  a  man  of  wealth,  he  was  also  a  free 
man  ;  his  change  of  religion,  unforced,  unsolicited  even ;  the 
highest  offices  and  honors  are  within  his  grasp,  and  much  I 
fear  that  he  will  have  power  to  give  us  trouble." 

"  Let  us  leave  the  city  then,  at  once,"  exclaimed  Edward. 

"  To  be  picked  up  by  the  first  party  of  black  troops  that 
we  encounter ;  to  be  followed,  in  an  hour's  time,  by  the  kaid 
of  the  slaves,  or  this  miscreant  Spaniard,  and  carried  off  be 
yond  all  hope  of  rescue  or  redemption.  No,  beyond  the  city 
walls  we  have  no  place  of  refuge  except  the  kassar  of  Casben 
Subah.  There  alone  grows,  on  the  tree  of  freedom,  the  fruit  of 
safety.  To  reach  the  tree — to  pluck  the  fruit — we  must  wait 
the  assistance  of  the  Berber.  If  we  can  succeed  in  removing 
the  Gaditanas  to-night,  without  being  observed,  I  trust  that  we 
shall  yet  throw  these  hounds  off  our  trail,  keen  as  is  their 
scent." 

The  brothers  returned  to  their  lonesome,  ill-furnished  do 
micile,  where,  with  nothing  to  amuse  or  occupy  them  but  their 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  257 

own  thoughts,  the  remainder  of  the  day  passed  slowly  away. 
Hassan,  from  his  Moorish  training,  had  acquired  something  of 
one  of  the  great  Mohammedan  virtues — patience  and  resigna 
tion  ;  but  for  Edward,  his  Christian  education  little  fitted  him 
to  endure  the  chafing  of  his  ill-schooled  spirit — the  excitement 
of  his  ebbing  hopes  and  fears.  He  watched  the  persistent 
glare  of  the  mid-day  heat  and  light,  as  it  poured  perpendicu 
larly  into  the  open  patio,  until  his  brain  seemed  about  to  take 
fire.  No  shadow  would  show  itself;  the  very  miracle  of 
Joshua  was  being  re-enacted  for  his  especial  mortification  and 
punishment — the  sun  stood  still  in  the  heavens. 


258  THE     BERBER. 


CHAPTER    XXII 


THE  generous  Xaripha  was  now  the  hostess  of  her  suppos 
ed  rival.  She  had  saved  her  life  from  the  knife  of  Fatima ; 
and  although,  as  the  beams  of  the  morning  streamed  into  the 
court,  the  extraordinary  beauty  of  the  Spanish  maiden  was 
more  fully  revealed  to  her,  she  suffered  not  the  jealous  pang 
that  shot  through  her  heart  to  excite  one  evil  thought  affecting 
the  ultimate  safety  of  the  Gaditana.  As  if  to  assure  her  own 
determination,  she  hastened  to  interpose  the  inviolable  guaran 
tees  of  Arabic  hospitality,  and  to  break  bread  and  share  salt 
with  the  maidens. 

And  well  was  Xaripha  rewarded,  when  Isabel,  noticing  her 
forlorn  look,  took  her  by  the  arm,  and  leading  her  to  a  cushion 
ed  seat  in  the  corner  of  the  gallery,  resumed  the  confession  that 
the  entrance  of  the  Berber  had  interrupted. 

"  Dear  Xaripha !"  exclaimed  the  Spanish  girl,  as  she 
twined  her  arms  around  her  Moorish  friend,  "  you  recollect 
that  I  pronounced  Fatima's  jealousy  groundless1?" 

The  cheek  of  the  Moresca  grew  pale,  and  then  glowed  red, 
as  if  painted  up  to  the  high  standard  of  Moorish  fashion.  The 
glance  of  the  tigress  flashed  for  a  moment  from  her  dark  eyes, 
and  then  the  long  fringe  of  eye-lashes  closed  over  them,  and 
they  remained  fixed  upon  the  floor. 


A     TALK    OF    MOROCCO.  259 

"  Groundless  !"  repeated  Isabel ;  and  then,  after  a  pause, 
she  proceeded  to  speak  of  the  slight  passages  of  gallantry  be 
tween  her  and  Edward  Carlyle — the  passionate  admiration 
for  Xaripha  that  the  young  man  had  admitted  to  his  brother — 
the  close  resemblance  of  the  brothers — and  lastly,  with  some 
embarrassment  of  manner,  of  her  own  passion  for  the  rais. 

Xaripha's  heart  beat  tumultuously  as  Isabel  proceeded  in 
her  tale — the  tears  came  to  her  eyes,  and  her  lip  trembled. 

"  There  is  one  question  that  I  must  ask  you,"  she  said, 
hesitatingly,  and  placing  her  hand  upon  Isabel's  arm — "one 
question,  senorita.  " 

"  Ask  anything  you  please,"  replied  Isabel,  "  and  I  will 
answer  you  in  truth." 

"  Tell  me,  then,  where  and  when  did  you  last  see  thia 
young  Englishman  1" 

"  In  his  boat,  as  he  pushed  off  from  the  shore  at  the  bar  of 
the  Guadalete,"  replied  Isabel. 

"And  your your "  Xaripha  hesitated,  and  her 

brow  became  crimson — "  your  visiter  of  last  evening " 

"  Was  the  rais  Hassan  Herach,  or  Henry  Carlyle,"  repli 
ed  Isabel  smiling. 

Xaripha  uttered  a  cry  of  pleasure  and  surprise,  and  threw 
her  arms  round  Isabel's  neck.  The  next  moment,  ashamed  of 
her  emotion,  and  doubtful  of  being  able  to  control  it,  she 
sprang  to  her  feet,  and  dashing,  with  a  look  wild  with  delight, 
along  the  latticed  gallery,  threw  herself  upon  her  couch.  Here 
she  buried  her  face  in  the  cushions,  and  gave  vent  to  her  emo 
tions  of  happiness,  as  she  had  before  to  her  feelings  of  jealousy 
and  despair,  in  tears. 


260  THE     BERBER 

Suddenly  Fatima,  unseen  by  her  mistress,  put  her  head 
in  at  the  door.  The  negress  had  followed  the  flight  of  Xaripha 
along  the  gallery — had  seen  her  throw  herself  upon  her  pillow 
and  now  stood  listening  intently  to  her  stifled  sobs.  She  knew 
nothing  of  the  conversation  between  the  maidens,  and  her 
own  conclusions  were  that  the  emotions  of  her  beloved  mis 
tress  could  be  prompted  only  by  jealousy  and  despair.  As 
Xaripha  raised  her  head,  Fatima  withdrew  from  the  doorway 
and  descended  to  the  court. 

"  Yah  !  yah !"  muttered  the  old  woman,  wagging  her  head 
from  side  to  side,  while  an  expression  of  demoniac  determina 
tion  gleamed  from  her  eyes,  and  puffed  out  her  fat  cheeks.  "  I 
take  good  care  this  time,  oh  Xaripha  saghirah,  this  daughter 
of  Ebliss  shall  not  trouble  you  any  more.  Leila  'Eipha's  heart 
is  too  soft — I  shan't  let  her  know  what  I  going  to  do — but  I 

guess  I  take  care  this  time Yes,  yah !  yah !  I  take  good 

care  this  time." 

The  remainder  of  the  day  Fatima  kept  out  of  the  sight 
of  her  mistress.  Moody  and  silent  she  busied  herself  with 
her  avocations  in  the  court  and  among  the  menials — hardly 
deigning  to  look  above,  or  to  take  any  notice  of  the  evi 
dences  of  interest  and  sympathy  which  she  might  have 
seen  passing  between  Xaripha  and  her  guests.  The  feeble 
mind  of  the  old  woman  was  wholly  occupied  with  one  idea — 
that  of  disposing  of  Xaripha's  supposed  rival ;  and  that  she 
was  determined  to  carry  out,  even  in  despite  of  her  mistress' 
wishes,  looking  upon  her  as  a  child  whose  good  rather  than 
whose  pleasure  was  to  be  consulted  in  the  case.  On  her  part 
Xaripha  did  not  imagine  that  the  attempt  of  the  negress 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  261 

against  the  life  of  the  Gaditana  would  be  renewed,  and  when 
subduing  the  emotion  excited  by  the  explanations  of  Isabel, 
her  time  was  too  fully  occupied  with  the  sisters  to  heed  the 
mutterings  of  the  old  woman,  whose  wrath  waxed  fiercer  and 
fiercer  as  she  heard  the  tinkle  of  the  guitar  from  the  gallery, 
and  then,  alternately,  the  voices  of  the  Moresca  and  Gaditana 
in  song. 

A  pleasant  laugh  from  Xaripha  floated  through  the  lattice. 
The  indignation  of  Fatima  fairly  bubbled  over.  To  rival  her 
child  in  love  was  bad  enough,  but  to  come  into  the  house  and 
make  her  sing  and  laugh,  under  such  circumstances,  was  some 
thing  that  could  never  be  forgiven.  Fatima  grasped  her  knife, 
but  putting  it  down  again  with  an  effort,  she  contented  herself 
with  distorting  her  face  into  a  series  of  diversified  scowls,  and 
industriously  wagging  her  head. 

"  Yah !  yah  !7'  she  exclaimed,  "  wait  a  little  while.  I  go 

sure  this  time yah  !  yah !"  and  waddling  off,  the  old  woman 

retired  to  her  own  den  in  a  further  corner  of  the  inner  court, 
where,  coiling  herself  up  on  a  piece  of  Rabat  matting,  she 
brooded  over  her  own  and  the  wrongs  of  her  mistress,  and 
elaborated  her  plans  of  revenge. 

It  was  noon  when  Abdallah,  returning,  announced  to  the 
sisters  that  it  had  been  decided  they  should  remove  that  night 
to  the  house  indicated  by  the  Berber,  which,  as  it  had  been 
standing  unoccupied  for  some  time,  the  worthy  kaid  of  the 
gates  had  found  no  difficulty  in  obtaining  possession  of.  To  this 
arrangement  the  generous  heart  of  Xaripha  was  strongly  op 
posed;  she  insisted  upon  it  that  the  sisters  should  remain 
where  they  were,  and  that  she  and  her  father  should  en- 


262  THE     BERBER. 

counter  any  risk  to  protect  them.  Abdallah  replied  that  it 
was  not  alone  for  his  own  sake  that  he  proposed  to  take  the 
sisters  to  another  house — it  was  necessary  to  their  safety. 
Their  removal  had  been  advised  by  the  Berber,  and  approved 
by  the  rais.  "  The  kaid  of  the  slaves,"  he  said,  "  will  at 
once  divine  their  present  hiding-place,  if  he  does  not  know  it 
already ;  and  the  only  way  to  baffle  him,  will  be  to  send 
the  sisters  to  their  new  hiding-place  before  they  can  be 
tracked  by  spies." 

Still  Xaripha  could  not  be  convinced,  although  she  was 
forced  to  yield ;  which  she  did  at  last  only  to  the  wishes  of 
Isabel,  who  announced  her  determination  to  abide  by  the  deci 
sion  of  the  rais. 

"And,  Juanita,"  exclaimed  Xaripha,  "you, too — have  you 
nothing  to  say  ?  do  you  wish  to  go  ?" 

"  I  do  not  wish  it,  certainly,"  replied  the  young  girl ;  "  but 
as  Isabel  puts  her  faith  in  the  rais,  I  don't  see  why  I  should  not 
have  some  confidence  in  the  Berber :  and  his  last  words  to  me 
were  that  we  should  remove  as  soon  as  possible  to  a  house 
near  the  Bab  el  Gharb." 

"  Let  us  hope  that  it  will  be  but  for  a  short  time  that  you 
are  separated,"  whispered  the  kaid.  "  A  few  days,  at  most, 
and  then  may  we  all  saeet  where  the  path  of  safety  crosses  the 
road  of  danger." 

Further  argument  was  useless,  and  Xaripha  withdrew  with 
her  new  friends  to  the  cool  and  airy  alcove  at  the  end  of  the 
latticed  gallery.  There,  stretched  at  ease  upon  piles  of  gilt 
and  embroidered  morocco  cushions,  the  three  maidens  passed, 
in  animated  conversation,  the  summer's  afternoon,  Xaripha 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  263 

had  many  inquire  to  make  respecting  the  land  of  her  ancestors ; 
and  not  a  little  astonished  was  she  to  find,  that  on  many  points 
of  Spanish  history  she  was  far  better  informed  than  her  guests. 
She  could  repeat  old  ballads  that  the  sisters  had  never  heard 
She  could  describe  the  bull-fights,  and  the  joustings  which  sig 
nalized  the  entrance  of  the  great  Almazor  into  Toledo.  She 
could  picture  the  mosques  and  palaces  of  Seville,  and  Cordo 
va,  and  Grenada.  The  sisters  could  better  speak  of  the  pre 
sent  condition  of  the  country.  With  the  bull-fight  they  were 
familiar ;  but,  alas ! — and  Juanita  sighed  as  she  said  it — the 
gallant  knights  and  proud  chieftains  who  once,  for.  grace  in 
fair  ladies'  eyes,  entered  the  arena,  had  now  degenerated  into 
hired  picadores  and  matedores.  Of  the  tournaments  nothing 
remained :  of  the  mosques  and  palaces,  a  good  deal  still  stood, 
but  altered  or  obscured  by  the  heavy  and  intolerant  hand  of 
the  Church.  Xaripha  sighed  as  the  conviction  grew  upon  her, 
that  the  Andalusia  of  her  imagination  had  ceased  to  exist. 

And  thus,  in  pleasant  conversation,  or  in  silence  full  of  un 
expressed  feeling  and  thought,  the  day  rapidly  passed.  The 
same  sun  that  stood  still  for  the  ardent  and  anxious  brothers, 
moved  rapidly  ovei  the  gallery  wherein  were  grouped  the 
maidens.  The  shadows  of  balustrade  and  cornice  fell  into  the 
court,  and  grew  longer  and  longer,  and  wider  and  wider.  The 
slender  fountain  no  longer  flashed  in  the  sunlight.  The  spar 
kle  and  glitter  were  gone,  but,  as  if  to  make  up  for  the  loss, 
the  joyous  water  rose  and  danced,  and  sung,  and  fell  back  into 
the  now  shaded  marble  basin,  with  a  more  musical,  a  more 
soul-subduing  sound.  The  lattices  of  the  gallery  were  thrown* 
open.  The  rich,  full  figures  of  Xaripha  and  Isabel,  supported 


264  THE     BERBER. 

amid  piles  of  cushions,  rested  upon  the  thick  tufted  carpet. 
The  slighter,  but  not  less  graceful  figure  of  Juanita  reclined 
against  the  pilaster  of  the  open  arch,  from  whence  she  could 
watch  the  play  of  the  bubbling  water,  as  it  now  rose  straight 
and  steady,  higher  and  higher,  and  now  sank  quivering  and 
waving  in  the  breath  of  the  perfume-laden  breeze,  that,  spring 
ing  down  from  the  battlements  of  the  terrace,  brought  with  it 
a  degree  of  freshness  indicating  its  recent  arrival  from  the  hills 
of  the  Berber. 

It  was  a  beautiful  picture,  that  tessellated  court,  that 
marble  fountain,  that  open-arched  arabesque  gallery,  and 
those  three  maidens  in  their  loveliness,  grouped  in  uncon 
strained  and  graceful  attitudes  within.  A  beautiful  picture, 
and  well  worthy  the  limning  of  a  more  expert  pen  than  the 
one  that  now  scarcely  dares  to  indicate  the  outline.  Had  it 
suited  the  purposes  of  our  story,  or  the  truth,  to  have  created 
some  striking  contrasts  of  person,  character,  sentiments,  habits, 
or  age — to  have  exaggerated  slight  differences,  and  with  a 
free  hand  to  have  heightened  the  lights  and  darkened  the 
shadows,  the  picture  would  have  been  much  more  easily 
presentable  to  the  reader.  A  striking  picture  might  not, 
perhaps,  overtask  our  powers,  but  one  of  such  quiet,  har 
monious,  uniform  loveliness,  requires  a  master-hand. 

The  evening  had  hardly  closed  in  when  a  tap  was  heard  at 
the  rude  square  door  opening  into  the  street.  Abdallah  drew 
the  bolts,  admitting  three  hooded  figures  into  the  darkened 
skeffa.  A  few  words  passed  between  the  kaid  and  the  rais, 
when  Abdallah  in  all  haste  proceeded  to  call  the  sisters.  Ac 
companied  by  Xaripha,  they  descended  from  the  gallery  and 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  265 

entered  the  outer  court.  The  rais  advanced  a  few  steps,  leav 
ing  his  companions  in  the  back  ground,  and  addressed  in 
a  low  tone  the  sisters.  Xaripha  started  when  she  heard  his 
voice,  but  the  next  instant  something  in  the  tone  reassured  her, 
and  she  turned  away  as  if  ashamed  of  her  emotion.  As  she 
did  so,  one  of  the  figures  behind  the  rais  called  her  attention 
by  a  gesture.  It  was  enough — though  his  form  was  entirely 
enveloped  in  the  djellabeah,  and  his  features  concealed  by  the 
hood,  there  was  something  that  she  instantly  recognized  in 
the  wave  of  his  hand.  The  figure  stepped  back  into  the  skeffa. 
Xaripha  obeyed  the  gesture,  and  found  herself  clasped  in  the 
arms  of  Edward  Carlyle. 

As  the  young  man  pressed  the  yielding  form  of  the  Mores- 
ca  to  his  breast,  a  thrill  of  passion — so  wild,  so  fierce,  so  mad 
dening — passed  through  his  heart,  that  for  an  instant  he  shud 
dered  with  fear. 

"I  shall   go  mad!''  he  muttered,  "and  then! " 

"  Xaripha,"  he  whispered,  making  an  effort  to  repress  his 
emotion,  and  to  recover  his  senses,  which  seemed  about  to 
leave  him — "  Xaripha my  life  !  my  soul ! I've  promis 
ed  to  make  no  effort  to  speak  to  you  :  see  how  I  keep  my  word. 
Oh,  you  know  not  what  I  have  suffered  since  I  saw  you! 
And  now,  in  a  moment,  we  part !" 

"  But  to  meet  again,"  said  Xaripha. 

"Yes,  by  Heaven,  Xaripha  !"  exclaimed  Edward,  fiercely: 
"  Though  all  the  Moors  this  side  of  the  eternal  flames  stood  in 
the  way,  we  shall  meet  again !  I  will  turn  Moor  myself,  but 
we  shall  meet !  If  needs  be,  I  will  renounce  family,  country, 
religion — every  thing  !  Ah,  mi  alma,  mi  queridito  !  you  know 
not  how  I  suffer  when  I  am  away  from  you." 


266  THE     BERBER. 

"  But  this  time  you  will  have  company  to  cheer  you — the 
Spanish  sisters  go  with  you." 

There  was,  lurking  in  Xaripha's  remark,  a  slight  feeling  of 
jealousy,  but  Edward  heeded  it  not. 

"  No  company,"  he  replied  passionately,  "  can  cheer  me 
in  your  absence.  I  know  not  how  it  is,  Xaripha,  but  I  feel 
towards  you  as  I  never  thought  myself  capable  of  feeling  to 
wards  woman.  Strange !  is  it  not  ?  There  is  that  Spanish 
maiden — she  has  mind,  and  soul,  and  surpassing  beauty  of 
form  and  face,  but  could  she  parch  my  lips  and  sere  my  eyes, 
make  my  frame  tremble,  and  my  brain  whirl,  and  melt  my 
heart  into  a  red  hot  glowing  mass — now  weak  and  limpid 
as  water,  now  heavy  as  lead1?  Look  at  her  as  she  stands 
thus  beside  my  brother.  He  loves  her — truly,  deeply  loves 
her ;  but  think  you  that  he  feels  as  I  do  1  No !  he  has  giv 
en  her  his  heart — he  has  surrendered  his  fancy,  and  even, 
perhaps,  his  judgment;  but  he  at  least  keeps  his  senses.  But 
I,  Xaripha — what  have  you  left  me?" 

"  All — everything !"  replied  Xaripha.  "  What  you  have 
given  me what  I  am all  is  yours  !" 

A  passionate  embrace  was  the  young  man's  reply. 

Abdallah  and  the  rais,  accompanied  by  the  sisters,  and 
followed  by  Selim,  entered  the  skeffa.  Opening  the  door  and 
finding  that  no  one  was  in  sight,  Abdallah  led  the  party  into 
the  street ;  leaving  Xaripha  to  secure  the  door.  Enjoining 
silence  in  a  low  whisper,  the  kaid  conducted  the  party  through 
several  narrow  and  crooked  streets. 

A  few  paces  from  the  door  of  the  kaid's  house,  the  group 
passed  a  figure  enveloped  in  a  haick,  apparently  asleep  upon 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  267 

the  ground.  The  sight,  however,  was  too  common  to  excite 
any  suspicion,  and  the  kaid  passed  on  without  noticing  that, 
when  they  had  advanced  a  little  distance,  the  figure  sprang 
to  his  feet,  and  kept  them  in  view. 

Xaripha  fastened  the  door,  and  ascended  the  staircase  to 
the  gallery.  The  next  instant  Fatima  moved  rapidly  from 
the  inner  court,  and  entering  the  hall,  cautiously  opened  the 
door  and  passed  into  the  street.  Her  master  and  his  party 
had  not  gone  so  far  but  that  she  could  distinguish  their 
moving  figures,  and  without  hesitation  she  waddled  on  in 
pursuit. 

The  kaid  paused  in  front  of  a  low,  square  door,  and  pull 
ing  a  wooden  key  from  his  girdle,  applied  it  to  the  lock.  As 
the  door  closed  upon  the  party  Fatima  gave  a  grunt  of  sa 
tisfaction,  and  turning,  made  her  way  rapidly  back  to  the 
house.  The  hooded  figure  advanced  to  the  door — paused 
for  a  moment — noted  the  neighboring  buildings — applied 
his  ear  to  the  key-hole,  and  then,  to  mark  the  house  be 
yond  all  possibility  of  mistake,  picked  up  a  small  piece  of 
stone  and  deposited  it  at  the  base  of  the  wall  by  the  door. 

Within,  the  house  was  an  exact  counterpart  of  a  thousand 
other  second  class  houses  in  Mequinez.  Long  narrow  rooms, 
lighted  only  by  lofty  doors,  surrounded  an  oblong  paved 
space,  which  was  divided  into  two  courts  by  a  wall  pierced 
with  arches.  Had  the  house  been  of  two  stories,  these  arches 
would  have  supported  a  gallery.  Like  many  of  its  kind, 
it  had  been  for  a  long  time  uninhabited,  and  the  rooms 
were  somewhat  dilapidated — the  tendency  to  rapid  decay, 
arising  from  the  weakness  of  the  tapia  walls,  and  the  enor- 


268  THE     BERBER. 

mous  weight  of  the  terraces,  being   a   characteristic   of  all 
Moorish  dwellings. 

A  inattrass  of  wool,  two  or  three  thick  rugs,  and  a  pile 
of  cushions,  composed  the  furniture  of  one  of  the  rooms  open 
ing  upon  the  inner  court.  A  corresponding  room  of  the  outer 
court  was  selected  for  Edward ;  and  Selim  was  despatched 
for  the  thick  Rabat  rug  that  served  for  his  couch.  As  may 
be  supposed,  the  maidens  were  well  pleased  with  the  arrange 
ment  by  which  a  companion,  and  in  some  sort  a  protector, 
was  secured  to  them.  With  the  young  Englishman  within 
call,  their  situation  was  such  an  improvement  upon  their  late 
solitary  residence,  that  they  felt  that  for  a  time  at  least  they 
could  make  themselves  quite  content  with  their  lot. 

Abdallah  and  Hassan  retired,  but  soon  returned,  bear 
ing  a  provision  of  fruits,  bread  and  baked  meats,  sufficient  to 
prevent  all  necessity  for  opening  the  street  door  for  several 
days.  With  many  cautions  against  exposing  themselves  on 
the  terrace  to  a  view  from  the  turrets  of  the  houses,  or  from 
the  minarets  of  the  mosques,  Hassan  took  a  reluctant  leave, 
and  withdrew  for  the  night  with  the  kaid. 


A     TALE      OF     MOROCCO.  269 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


OF  the  four  or  five  thousand  women,  who,  in  the  course  of 
his  long  reign,  were  admitted  to  the  honors  of  Muley  Is- 
mael's  seraglio,  no  one  ever  acquired  or  maintained  the  influ 
ence  over  his  mind  that  was  enjoyed  by  Leila  Ajakah ;  and 
that  not  by  her  personal  charms,  or  through  the  monarch's 
affections.  Other  women  ministered  to  his  passions,  and  were 
then  sent  to  Tefilet,  where  the  soltan  kept  an  asylum  for  his 
repudiated  wives  and  cast  off  mistresses ;  but  Leila  Ajakah 
ever  retained  her  place  as  soltana  sidana,  or  Soltana  Queen, 
in  the  hareem  at  Mequinez. 

She  was  old,  fat,  ugly,  and  a  negress,  with  all  the  charac 
teristics  of  her  race  in  form  and  feature  strongly  marked. 
Without  education  of  any  kind,  she  possessed  great  natural 
shrewdness,  strong  passions,  indomitable  energy,  and  an  am 
bition  that  stopped  at  nothing  that  could  conduce  to  the  pre 
servation  of  her  own  power,  and  the  elevation  of  her  son  Si- 
dan  to  the  throne. 

For  many  years  the  chief  object  of  her  jealousy  had  been 
a  favorite  son  of  Muley  Ismael,  by  a  beautiful  Georgian  slave 
who  had  been  brought  up  in  the  Christian  religion.  The  son 
partook  of  his  mother's  beauty,  and  soon  engrossed  so  much 


270  T.HE     BERBER. 

of  his  father's  affection  that  he  alone  had  a  royal  education 
given  him,  while  the  soltan's  other  sons  were  consigned  to  the 
most  profound  ignorance.  But  it  was  this  partiality  of  the 
doting  father  that  occasioned  the  ruin  of  the  young  Moham 
med's  mother,  and  ultimately  of  himself.  A  false  accusation 
of  infidelity  was  contrived  by  the  soltana  sidana,  and  in  the 
first  fit  of  passion  the  fair  Georgian  was  ordered  by  the  jea 
lous  tyrant  to  death.  Her  innocence  was  established  when  it 
was  too  late,  but  such  was  the  influence  of  Leila  Ajakah,  that 
the  soltan,  instead  of  punishing  the  author  of  the  accusation, 
overlooked  the  imposition  which  had  been  practised  upon  him, 
and  contented  himself  with  various  public  demonstrations  of 
regret  at  his  credulity  and  precipitancy,  and  renewed  manifes 
tations  of  an  increasing  fondness  for  his  favorite  son. 

The  continued  intrigues  of  the  vindictive  and  jealous 
queen  convinced  the  soltan  that  the  life  of  his  favorite  would 
not  be  longer  safe  at  court,  so  giving  him  a  sum,  a  hundred 
weight  of  silver,  he  despatched  him  to  Tefilet,  with  orders  to 
take  upon  him  the  superintendance  of  the  imperial  seraglio  in 
that  town.  Here  a  quarrel  soon  broke  out  between  Moham 
med  and  another  son  of  the  soltan,  named  Maimom,  who  had 
been  appointed  governor  of  the  province.  A  bloody  rencon 
tre  in  the  streets  of  Tefilet  was  the  consequence,  and  both 
were  ordered  to  the  court  in  chains.  Upon  appearing  pros 
trate  before  him,  Muley  Ismael  addressed  them  with  a  scorn 
ful  smile,  and  in  words  that  have  been  literally  preserved  by 
the  historians  of  the  time. 

"  Good  morning !  good  morning !"  exclaimed  the  grin 
ning  tyrant.  "  How  do  you  both  do  ?  I  am  heartily  glad  to 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  271 

see  that  you  are  still  both  alive,  and  that  neither  of  you  hath 
lost  his  life  in  your  last  bloody  engagement.  I  easily  perceive 
either  that  you  think  yourselves  to  be  without  a  father,  or  for 
get  that  I  am  he.  You  appear  indeed,  as  meek  as  lambs  be 
fore  me  ;  but  out  of  my  sight,  you  are  worse  than  roaring 
lions.  If,  while  I  am  still  alive  you  have  the  boldness  to  take 
up  arms  against  each  other,  what  will  you  do  when  I  am 
dead  ]  Let  me  therefore  hear,  without  disguise,  the  occasion 
of  this  quarrel  of  yours,  that  I  may  apply  a  speedy  remedy 
to  it." 

Upon  this  invitation  the  brothers  arose  and  pleaded  their 
cause  before  the  soltan.  The  testimony  of  the  soltan's  bro 
thers  was  introduced,  by  which  it  was  established  that  Mai- 
mom,  a  profligate  and  debauched  fellow,  was  in  the  wrong, 
and  he  was  sentenced  to  confinement  in  the  castle  of  Zezami. 

"  I  obey  !"  exclaimed  Maimom  sulkily.  "  I  care  naught 
for  the  confinement,  but  it  grieves  me  that  that  Christian  " — 
pointing  to  Mohammed,  "  should  get  the  better  of  a  true  be 
liever." 

This  insulting  allusion  to  the  religion  of  Mohammed's 
mother  occasioned  a  fresh  outbreak,  and  from  words  the  en 
raged  brothers  proceeded  to  blows.  The  indignant  and  pas 
sionate  father  ordered  that  cimeters  should  be  given  them, 
and  that  they  should  fight  it  out  on  the  spot ;  but  at  the  re 
quest  of  some  of  the  bolder  courtiers,  he  consented  to  sub 
stitute  cudgels  for  swords.  The  infuriated  brothers  needed  no 
further  encouragement,  but  seizing  the  clubs  belaboured  each 
other  until  they  were  covered  with  blood. 

The  soltan  at  last  ordered  them  to  desist,  but  Moham- 


272  THE     BERBER. 

med,  without  heeding  the  command,  continued  his  blows, 
whereupon  the  soltan,  in  a  rage,  seized  the  cudgel  of  Maimom 
and  struck  Mohammed  with  it.  This  was  adding  fuel  to  fire, 
and  Mohammed's  passion  bursting  all  bounds,  he  rushed  by 
the  soltan,  seized  Maimom  by  the  throat,  dashed  him  to  the 
ground,  and  stamped  upon  him.  Muley  Ismael  leveled  his 
spear,  and  was  .about  to  pierce  his  disobedient  favorite,  but 
suddenly  checking  himself,  he  merely  struck  him  a  slight 
blow  with  it,  and  then  bitterly  upbraided  him  with  his 
Christian  blood. 

"  Go  !"  he  exclaimed ;  "  you  are  no  Moor ;  the  blood  of 
the  Nazarine  speaks  in  your  actions.  Depart  from  my  sight. 
Go,  eat  swine's  flesh  with  the  unbelievers." 

'Twas  but  for  a  few  days,  however,  that  Mohammed  re 
mained  in  disgrace.  The  tenderness  of  the  father  triumphed 
over  the  anger  of  the  soltan,  and  he  was  appointed  to  the  go 
vernment  of  Montegara,  which  he  administered  in  quiet  for 
five  years. 

A  sedition  having  been  excited  in  Soos,  the  most  impor 
tant  and  populous  province  in  the  whole  empire,  Mohammed 
was  ordered  by  his  father  to  go  and  take  upon  himself  the 
government.  He  eagerly  accepted  the  appointment,  and  so 
happily  directed  were  his  administrative  efforts,  that  the  dis 
quieted  province  was  speedily  reduced  to  peace.  This  new 
preferment,  and  the  success  attending  his  measures,  aroused 
anew  the  jealousy  of  the  sultana  sidana,  and  numerous  in 
trigues  were  set  on  foot  for  his  destruction.  Among  other 
devices  the  soltana  caused  a  forged  letter  from  the  soltan  to 
be  sent  to  Mohammed,  ordering  him  to  put  to  death  a  vene- 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  278 

rable  sheik  whom  the  soltan  highly  esteemed.  He  obeyed, 
and  despatched  the  same  courier  back  with  the  news  of  the 
sheik's  death.  The  rage  of  Muely  Ismael  was  heightened 
by  the  appearance  of  the  sheik's  sons,  who  came  to  lay 
their  complaints  before  him;  and  Mohammed  was  ordered  to 
repair  with  all  speed  to  court.  Mohammed  obeyed,  and 
upon  reaching  the  palace  he  found  his  father  awaiting  him, 
surrounded  with  the  sheik's  sons,  in  tears. 

"Are  you  shereef?"  screamed  the  monarch  in  a  tone  of 
fury. 

In  an  instant  Mohammed  divined  his  danger,  and  from 
the  presence  of  the  sheik's  sons,  the  cause  of  the  soltan's 
wrath. 

"  Thou  knowest  whether  I  am  or  not,"  he  replied.  "  I 
have  only  executed  thy  commands,  and  here  they  are,  under 
thy  hand  and  seal." 

The  soltan  took  the  letter,  read  it,  and  without  saying  a 
word,  mounted  his  horse  and  set  out  at  all  speed  for  the  ha- 
reem.  "The  days  of  Leila  Ajakah  are  numbered,"  thought 
the  courtiers ;  but  they  were  mistaken,  the  influence  of  the  old 
negress  survived  the  tempest  of  imperial  wrath.  Upon  some 
specious  pretence,  she  contrived  to  appease  the  soltan's  re 
sentment,  and  he  contented  himself  with  distributing  money 
to  the  orphans,  and  sending  them  and  his  son  back  to  Soos. 

Although  failing  in  this  attempt,  Leila  Ajakah  continued 
her  intrigues  against  the  life  of  Mohammed,  until  at  last  the 
young  prince  was  fairly  driven  into  rebellion.  He  seized  a 
large  treasure  coming  from  Soudan,  persuaded  the  imperial 
guards  to  follow  him,  and  retiring  to  his  province  of  Soos,  set 

11* 


274  THE    BERBER. 

up  the  standard  of  revolt — sending  a  letter  to  his  father,  re 
proaching  him  for  the  influence  that  he  allowed  the  soltana 
over  his  mind,  and  expressing  his  determination  never  again 
to  visit  a  court  where  he  could  not  rely  upon  the  power  of  his 
own  father  to  protect  him  from  the  machinations  of  Leila  Aja- 
kah  and  her  brutal  son  Sidan. 

Goaded  by  the  malicious  representations  of  the  soltana 
into  fury,  the  soltan  was  at  first  disposed  to  give  up  a  pro 
jected  expedition  against  the  Algerines,  for  which  he  had  col 
lected  an  army  of  sixty  thousand  men,  and  to  set  out  at  once 
against  his  rebellious  favorite.  But  at  length  he  concluded 
to  delay  his  vengeance  until  the  Algerine  question  was  set 
tled,  which  it  finally  was  by  the  complete  rout  of  his  troops 
by  a  greatly  inferior  force.  This  defeat,  however,  did  not 
long  prevent  the  collection  of  a  large  body  of  men,  who  were 
despatched  against  the  rebellious  prince,  under  the  command 
of  his  rival  Sidan. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  give  the  details  of  the  campaign, 
which,  after  a  variety  of  good  and  ill  fortune,  resulted  in  the 
capture  of  Mohammed,  who,  as  we  have  mentioned  in  another 
chapter,  was  brought  before  his  father,  and,  with  the  most  bar 
barous  ceremony  and  parade,  mutilated  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  cause  his  death  in  a  few  days. 

Leila  Ajakah  rejoiced  in  the  success  of  her  long  pursued 
plans  for  the  elevation  of  her  son  Sidan  to  the  throne,  but 
she  saw,  with  some  alarm,  that  her  efforts  to  clear  his  path 
had  for  the  time  somewhat  weakened  her  influence  with  the 
soltan.  She  had,  however,  too  much  tact  to  do  anything  that 
could  further  endanger  it,  and  she  did  not  therefore  set  herself 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  275 

as  strongly  as  she  otherwise  would  have  done  against  a  sud 
den  and  violent  passion  which  the  soltan  conceived  for  a  beau 
tiful  Irish  girl,  who,  captured  by  the  corsairs  of  Algiers,  had 
been  sent  as  a  present  to  him  from  the  Bey.  Anxious  to  pre 
serve  her  supremacy  in  the  hareem,  and  no  longer  fearing  a  ri 
val  for  her  son,  she  at  first  looked  upon  this  fancy  of  the 
soltan  without  jealousy,  trusting  that,  as  in  hundreds  of  other 
cases,  it  would  be  short  lived,  and  that  the  new  favorite  would 
have  neither  the  power  nor  the  will  to  establish  an  influence 
adverse  to  hers.  But  when  the  affection  of  the  soltan  appeared 
to  increase  with  time,  and  when  the  birth  of  a  son  to  his  old 
age  occurred,  to  rivet  his  doting  passion  for  the  mother ;  and 
more  especially  when  the  mother,  secure  of  her  power  over 
the  soltan,  had  begun  to  exhibit  a  tendency  to  encourage  a  ri 
val  faction  in  the  hareem,  the  jealousy  of  Leila  Ajakah  was 
aroused,  and  the  destruction  of  the  new  favorite  was  resolved 
upon.  But  how  to  effect  it it  would  be  unsafe  to  use  poi 
son  or  the  knife  :  for  the  soltan,  perceiving  the  symptoms  of 
jealousy,  had  intimated  his  intention  (in  case  any  violence  was 
done  to  his  favorite)  of  strangling  every  female  in  the  hareem. 
There  could  be  no  doubt  that  he  would  keep  his  word.  A 
charge  of  infidelity  had  been  tried  with  varying  success  in  too 
many  cases  to  admit  of  its  being  used  again.  There  was  no 
hope  except  in  diverting  the  affecflons  of  the  soltan  into  a  new 
channel.  To  do  this,  it  was  necessary  to  find  some  one  with 
a  degree  of  personal  beauty  that  would  attract  the  soltan's 
notice,  and  strike  his  fancy — some  one  with  charms  surpassing 
those  of  the  Irish  favorite  :  and  this,  Leila  Ajakah  acknow 
ledged  to  herself,  it  was  almost  hopeless  to  attempt.  The 


276  THE      BERBER. 

perquisitions,  however,  of  the  soltana  were  pursued  with  unre 
mitting  assiduity,  and  numberless  trials  of  new  faces  were 
made,  but  without  effect ;  while  each  day  the  state  of  affairs 
within  the  hareem  grew  more  and  more  threatening.  Open 
warfare  seemed  inevitable,  and  the  soltana  trembled  when  she 
thought  that  the  fate  to  which  she  had  consigned  so  many  of 
her  rivals — confinement  in  the  old  Tefilet  seraglio  on  the  bor 
ders  of  the  desert — might  yet  be  her  lot. 

It  was  in  this  frame  of  mind  that  the  soltana,  on  the  day 
after  the  events  mentioned  in  the  last  chapter,  seated  herself 
upon  a  low  divan,  just  within  an  arched  passage  opening  into  a 
small  square  court.  This  court  was  in  no  way  different  from 
hundreds  of  others  within  the  precincts  of  the  palace,  except, 
perhaps,  that  the  tessellated  pavement  was  more  curiously 
laid,  and  the  silken  hangings  of  the  arches  leading  to  the  rooms, 
of  a  more  costly  pattern  and  workmanship.  In  the  centre  of 
the  court  a  fountain  threw  up  a  slender  column  of  perfumed 
water. 

Leila  Ajakah  lolled  in  an  indolent  attitude  upon  the  broad 
divan.  This  apparent  dolce  far  niente  however  was  belied  by 
an  expression  of  anxiety  and  thought,  that. spread  itself  over 
her  coarse  negro  features.  The  day  was  warm,  and  the  dress 
of  the  soltana  corresponded  to  the  weather.  It  consisted  or 
nothing  but  a  pair  of  green  morocco  slippers,  and  a  single 
loose  garment  of  linen,  without  sleeves,  cut  low  in  the  neck, 
and  of  somewhat  scanty  proportions  as  to  length.  But  as  if  to 
make  amends  for  any  deficiency  of  clothing,  rings,  necklaces, 
bracelets  and  anklets,  studded  with  diamonds  and  rubies,  load 
ed  her  bare  bust  and  limbs.  Several  female  attendants,  still 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  277 

more  lightly  habited,  but  all  decked  with  gold  and  jewels, 
were  around  her. 

The  wicket  in  the  large  folding  door  leading  to  the  pas 
sage  was  thrown  open,  and  there  waddled  in  a  negress,  nearly 
as  large  and  quite  as  ugly  as  the  queen  herself.  Without 
ceremony,  the  new  comer  advanced,  bearing  a  small  bundle, 
which  she  placed  at  the  feet  of  the  soltana.  Muttering  the 
usual  expressions  of  compliment,  she  kneeled,  and  untying  the 
parcel  displayed  several  articles  of  apparel — a  fine  white  haick, 
a  few  yards  of  linen,  and  two  or  three  little  papers  of  spices 
and  tea. 

The  present  was  not  of  much  value,  but  it  was  sufficient 
to  comply  with  the  Moorish  custom,  which  requires  that 
an  inferior  should  never  seek  an  interview  with  a  superior 
empty-handed. 

"  Yah  !  yah  !"  muttered  the  kneeling  negress.  "  'Tis  a 
small  thing  to  present  to  the  sidana — but  I  have  something  to 
say  of  more  value.  Yah !  I  tell  the  sidana  something  she 
like  to  hear.  Yah  !  yah  !" 

The  soltana  had  watched  with  a  careless  glance  the  move 
ments  of  the  negress,  but  at  her  last  words  she  started  with 
an  air  of  interest,  and  held  out  her  hand. 

"  Fatima  Laboo  !"  she  exclaimed.  "  My  old  friend — it 
would  do  my  eyes  good  to  see  you,  even  if  your  hands  were 
empty.  Did  we  not  cross  the  desert  together  ?" 

"  Yah !  yah  !"  exclaimed  Fatima.  "  We  cross  Sahara 

together,  but  then  we  go  different  ways. Yah !  you  make 

soltana  sidana.  I  make  slave  to  Abdallah.  Yah  !  yah  !" 

"Yes,"  replied  Leila;  "but  I  do  not  forget  old  friends. 
You  have  some  favor  to  ask  of  me speak  boldly." 


278  THE     BERBER. 

"  No,  no,  1  got  no  favor  to  ask ;  but  I  got  something  to  tell. 
Yah !  yah !  I  know  what  you  want everybody  know." 

Fatima  leaned  forward,  and  whispered  in  a  low  tone. 

"Sidana  wants  to  eat  the  heart  of  the  Nazarine." 

The  soltana  distorted  her  mouth  into  a  hideous  grin,  but 
made  no  reply. 

"  Yah !  yah !"   continued  Fatima,  wagging   her   head.     I 

know  the  way sidana  shall  have  it.     Look !  her  heart  is  in 

my  hand.     I  put  it  into  sidana's." 

The  queen  made  a  gesture  of  silence,  and  then  rising,  she 
took  Fatima  by  the  arm,  and  drew  her  into  a  small,  dark  room. 
When  beyond  the  reach  of  the  ears  of  her  women,  she  eager 
ly  demanded  an  explanation  of  her  words. 

With  sundry  waggings  of  the  head,  and  contortions  of  the 
body,  and  numerous  exclamations  of  "  Yah !  yah !"  inter 
mingled  with  adjurations  of  Allah  and  Obi,  Fatima  went 
on  to  say  that  the  desire  of  the  soltana  to  find  some  one  who 
could  be  brought  forward  as  a  rival  to  the  present  favorite  of 
the  soltan  was  well  known ;  and  that  out  of  friendship  for  her 
old  acquaintance,  countrywoman,  and  fellow-slave,  she  had 
come  to  announce  that  such  a  rival  could  be  found. 

"  Tis  idle  to  talk  of  it,"  interrupted  Leila,  fiercely.  "  Our 
lord  the  soltan  hates  the  beauties  of  this  land.  Ebliss  blinds 
his  eyes,  and  he  can  find  nothing  to  please  him  but  among  the 
damsels  of  the  Kaffirs.  May  the  curse  of  the  Prophet  light 
upon  them." 

"  Yah  !  yah  ! that  is  it.     This  one  is  a  Nazarine 

and  oh  !  how  beautiful !" 

"  Christian !  do  you  say of  what  nation  V9 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  279 

"  A  Christian  and  a  Spaniard." 
"  And  beautiful  T 

"  Yah  !  yah !  like  the  stars like  the  moon.     She  is  not 

very  fat  now ;  but  you  shut  her  up  for  a  few  days,  and  make 
her  drink  plenty  milk,  and  eat  plenty  cooscoosoo,  she  grow  fat 
very  soon.  Yah  !  yah  !  She  grow  fat  enough." 

A  few  words  sufficed  to  explain  the  story  of  Isabel,  so  far 
as  Fatima  had  heard  it  or  could  guess  it;  and  so  occupied  was 
the  old  woman's  mind  with  the  image  of  the  elder  sister,  that 
she  quite  forgot  the  existence  of  Juanita. 

The  conference  between  the  two  friends  lasted  but  a  short 
time.  The  soltana  was  too  impatient  for  action  to  await  the 
tedious  circumlocutions  of  Fatima ;  and  as  soon  as  she  had 
gathered  the  main  facts  in  relation  to  the  case,  she  put  her 
head  out  of  the  door,  and  made  a  signal  to  a  confidential 
female  slave. 

"  Call  Hadj  Hallioud,"  she  exclaimed.  "  Tell  him  I  must 
see  him  instantly." 

The  slave  departed,  and  in  a  few  moments,  in  obedience  to 
the  summons,  Raid  Hadj  Hallioud,  chief  eunuch  of  the  hareem, 
a  monstrous  negro,  almost  sinking  under  the  weight  of  fat 
that  loaded  his  frame,  made  his  appearance. 

In  former  days  Kaid  Hallioud  and  the  soltana  had  been  ri 
val  powers  in  the  hareem,  and  long  and  bitter  was  the  struggle 
for  supremacy.  The  superior  genius  of  Leila,  however,  at  last 
triumphed,  and  the  kaid  was  fain  to  acknowledge  himself  van 
quished,  and  to  beg  for  mercy,  upon  the  promise  of  strict  obe 
dience  to  her  will. 

"  Peace  to  the  soltana  sidana,  and  may  God  preserve  the 


280  THE     BERBER. 

life  of  her  lord  the  soltan  !"  exclaimed  the  kaid,  in  a  broken, 
wheezing  voice ;  and  with  a  twinkle  of  his  small  eyes — half 
malicious  and  cunning,  and  half  foolish  and  stupid — "  What  is 
the  will  of  the  soltana  1  Whose  head  is  too  high  1  Tell  me, 
and  I  will  lower  it.  Whose  neck  is  too  stiff]  I  have  a  twist 
ed  sash  that  will  bend  it.  Whose  back  is  too  straight  ]  I 
have  a  filela  that  will  bow  it." 

There  was  a  good  deal  of  the  natural  dignity  of  strong  ge 
nius  and  character,  and  some  of  that  elevation  that  frequently 
arises  from  the  exercise  of  power,  in  the  manner  of  the  sol 
tana  when  her  passions  were  not  aroused.  She  replied  to 
the  complimentary  proffers  of  the  kaid  with  a  gesture  of  im 
patience,  and  a  smile  of  contempt. 

Advancing  towards  him  with  a  grave  face,  she  laid  her 
hand  upon  his  arm.  "  Have  a  guard  ready  to-night,  and  when 
it  is  quite  dark,  go  to  the  house  that  stands  nearest  to  the  Bab 
el  Gharb.  Enter  it,  and  you  will  find  a  maiden  of  the  Naza- 
rines.  Bring  her  here  to  me.  Do  you  understand  me  ]" 

The  kaid  uttered  a  sigh  of  assent. 

"  On  your  head  be  it — I  am  in  earnest — on  your  head  it 
shall  be.  And,  mark  you,  be  careful  of  the  maiden :  bring  her 
hither,  but  treat  her  with  all  tenderness." 

The  kaid  promised  implicit  obedience,  and  with  the  usual 
complimentary  expressions  departed. 

"  Yah !  yah !"  exclaimed  Fatima,  as  she  took  her  leave, 
and,  under  the  guidance  of  the  slave  who  had  admitted  her, 
wended  her  way  through  the  labyrinth  of  courts  and  passages 
to  the  palace  gate.  "  Yah  !  yah  !  I  guess  I  put  her  now 
where  she  wont  trouble  little  'Ripha  any  more.  Oh  !  Xaripha 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  281 

saghira  !  I  love  you  much — more  than  you  do  yourself.     You 
wouldn't  let  me  kill  her — but  I  do  just  as  well.     He  no  kiss 

her  any  more — he  come  back  to  little  'Ripha.     If  he  do'nt 

ha !  I  do  something  then !      Yah  !  yah  !     I  give  him  Obi  dish 
1  guess  so.     Yah !  yah  !" 


282  THE     BERBER. 


CHAPTER   XXIV, 


IT  was  just  as  the  sun  was  sinking  below  the  horizon,  that 
a  horseman  emerged  from  the  lentisch  groves  covering  the  sides 
of  a  range  of  small  hills  forming  the  eastern  boundary  of  the 
level  and  beautiful  plain  of  Mequinez.  A  djellabeah,  completely 
enveloped  his  person,  except  that  from  his  knee  down,  a  well 
formed  muscular  leg  was,  according  to  the  custom  of  the 
country,  entirely  bare.  The  hood  of  the  djellabeah  d  awn  far 
over  the  head,  concealed  not  only  the  features,  but  rendered  it 
impossible  to  tell  whether  beneath  was  the  closely  cut  hair 
and  turban  of  the  Moor,  the  black  scull  cap  of  the  Jew,  or  the 
long  locks  of  the  mountaineer.  There  was,  however,  some 
thing  in  the  lithe  grace  with  which  the  rider  sat  in  his  saddle ; 
something  in  the  light  springy  air  of  his  figure,  revealing  itself 
in  despite  of  the  coarse  woollen  garment,  that,  had  the  reader 
been  present,  would  have  sufficiently  indicated  the  name  and 
character  of  the  stranger. 

The  horse,  too,  the  reader  will  readily  recognise.  He 
was  a  tall  black  barb,  but  inasmuch  as  we  shall  have  occasion 
to  dwell  upon  his  points  more  particularly  hereafter,  we  will 
not  stop  to  describe  him  now.  With  slow  and  lazy  step  the 
animal,  left  by  his  rider  entirely  to  himself,  made  his  way 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  283 

among  the   low  palmetto  bushes,  and  entered  upon  the  plain. 

The  plain,  or  small  prairie,  was  one  of  a  series,  all  evi 
dently  the  beds  of  extinct  lakes,  which,  commencing  in  El 
Garb,  the  most  northern  province  of  Morocco,  stretch,  with  va 
rious  interruptions  from  the  spurs  of  the  great  mountain  range, 
to  the  borders  of  the  Sahara.  To  the  north  the  regularly 
serrated  hills  of  Marmora  were  now  clearly  visible  :  to  the 
east,  as  we  have  said,  were  the  range  of  low  hills  from  which 
the  horseman  had  just  descended,  and  peering  above  them,  in 
the  distance,  were  the  lofty  snow-covered  summits  of  the  far 
famed  Atlas ;  while  to  the  south  and  west  the  view  was  unin 
terrupted  until  the  eye  rested  upon  the  minarets  and  domes 
of  Mequinez. 

The  sun  had  now  sunk  beneath  the  clear  and  distant  ho 
rizon  which  bounded  the  plain  to  the  west,  relieving  the 
parched  earth  from  its  overpowering  influence,  and  leaving 
the  short  but  delicious  twilight  to  illuminate  the  scene.  Not 
a  cloud  was  visible  that  could  receive  and  reflect  the  lingering 
glories  of  the  setting  sun,  but  mantling  over  the  whole  face 
of  heaven,  a  delicate  crimson  blush  mingled  itself  for  a  mo 
ment  with  the  clear  deep  blue  through  which  the  stars  were 
shining  brightly,  then  fleetingly  disappeared.  The  gray  haze 
of  evening  began  to  settle  on  distant  objects,  not  obscuring, 
but  magnifying  and  exhibiting  their  outlines  with  tenfold  dis 
tinctness.  A  solitary  fig-tree  on  the  farthest  verge  of  the  ho 
rizon  could  be  plainly  seen,  throwing  its  knarled  and  knotted 
branches  hi  clear  relief  against  the  sky. 

Suddenly  starting-  from  his  revery,  the  horseman  threw 
back  the  folds  of  his  djellabeah.  Then  gathering  up  the  bri- 


284  THE      BERBER. 

die,  and  affectionately  patting  the  neck  of  his  steed,  he  ex 
claimed,  "  Come,  come,  good  Boroon,  we  have  been  loitering 
long  enough;  it  is  getting  so  dark  that  no  one  can  observe  our 
haste  now,  and  we  have  a  good  long  hour's  gallop  before  us. 
Come !  Look  out  for  the  lizard  holes,  and  let  us  be  moving, 
Ladah  el  heil!  Ladah  el  lieilT 

In  an  instant  the  gallant  animal,  all  spirit  and  animation 
at  the  sound  of  his  master's  voice,  uttering  the  well  known  en 
couraging  cry  of  the  Moorish  horsemen,  was  off  at  full  speed 
across  the  level  ground  in  the  direction  of  the  towers  and 
domes  we  have  mentioned,  but  which  were  now  no  longer  in 
sight.  No  light  remained  to  guide  the  flying  steed; still,  his 
pace  was  not  checked ;  on  he  sped,  passing  bushes  and  gul- 
leys  with  a  celerity  and  safety  betokening  marvellous  powers 
of  vision  in  either  rider  or  horse,  or  perhaps  in  both.  For 
nearly  an  hour  the  generous  animal  was  kept,  by  the  encou 
raging  conversation  of  his  master,  at  the  top  of  his  speed. 

"  Haste !  Haste !  Child  of  Hassaneh,  son  of  the  beauti 
ful  !  well  done,  my  brave  Boroon,"  he  exclaimed,  as  his  steed 
cleared  a  small  water  gulley.  "  Bravely  done !  jewel  of  my 

heart.    I  saw  it  not ;  but  you oh,  you,  Boroon,  are  the  light 

of  my  eyes.  Your  sight  is  as  keen  as  a  hawk's.  Your  feet 
are  the  wings  of  an  eagle.  What  would  become  of  me  were 
I  to  lose  thee,  my  beauty,  my  pearl,  my  love  ?" 

"  Fly  !  fly  !  my  brave  Boroon,"  continued  the  horseman, 
after  a  short  pause.  "  'Tis  in  her  service,  Oh  son  of  El  Has 
saneh,  and  verily  thou  shalt  have  thy  reward.  Her  soft  hands 
shall  caress  thee — her  voice  shall  say,  '  Boroon  !  good  Boroon  ! 
brave  Boroon !' her  breath  shall  lie  on  thy  nostrils  sweeter 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  285 

than  zephyr  from  the  clover  fields  of  Duquela her  form 

shall  press  thee,  her  arm  shall  guide  thee.  Yes  !  I  swear  it, 
by  all  the  saints !  you  shall  stretch  your  legs  beneath  the  light 
weight  of  the  flower  of  Andalusia  !" 

Suddenly  drawing  rein,  the  rider  checked  his  horse  and 
sprang  from  his  back  beside  a  fig-tree,  which  accident  had, 
probably,  planted  upon  the  spot.  Looking  carefully  under 
and  around  the  tree,  he  struck  a  short,  sharp  blow  with  the 
fingers  of  his  right  hand  in  the  palm  of  his  left,  and  waited  a 
few  moments  for  an  answer. 

"  He  has  not  arrived  yet,"  said  he,  in  a  tone  betraying 
some  little  vexation.  "  We  must  even  wait,  good  Boroon.  I 
hope  that  he  will  not  disappoint  us  entirely." 

Thus  saying,  he  took  the  bridle  off  his  horse,  and  led  him 
a  short  distance  from  the  tree.  Here  he  threw  himself  upon 
the  ground  behind  some  furze,  and  at  a  word  Boroon  stretch 
ed  himself  out  beside  him.  Both  were  thus  as  completely 
concealed  as  they  could  have  been  in  the  tallest  thicket.  A 
small  bag  of  dates,  shared  equally  between  master  and  horse, 
served  to  occupy  the  short  half  hour  they  had  to  wait. 

Of  this  brief  interval  we  might  avail  ourselves,  according  to 
the  usual  privilege  of  novelists,  to  spin  a  chapter  out  of  the 
crowd  of  thoughts  and  sentiments  that  occupied  the  young 
man's  mind.  But,  although  the  time  favors,  our  space  will  hard 
ly  permit,  and  we  must  leave  the  reader,  therefore,  to  infer  the 
general  tenor  of  the  current  from  a  few  muttered  exclamations. 

"  By  heavens  !"  he  said,  "  can  I  but  stir  up  the  Shellooks 
to  open  the  war,  I  care  not  if  they  will  not  join  their  arms  to 
mine — 'twill  serve  for  a  diversion.  And  then,  if  I  can  rally 


286  THE     BERBER. 

our  Berber  tribes aye,  if Now,  curses  on  these  blood 

feuds  !  Let  me  get  the  upper  hard  once,  and  I  will  crush  the 
jarring  and  diverse  elements  of  our  nationality  together  with  a 
strong  arm.  But  now ! — prudence,  caution ;  settling  disputes 
here,  patching  up  a  peace  there — tying  up  a  bundle  of  faggots 
to-day,  that  to-morrow  will  be  riven  and  in  a  flame !  But  all 
could  be  done  if  I  had  only  tools  to  work  with.  Oh !  if  I 
had  half  a  dozen  men  with  the  spirit  of  the  Gaditana  !  How 
her  eyes  glowed  when  I  spoke  of  rescuing  this  land  from  the 

Moors  !     By  heavens it  shall  be  done !     She  is  worthy  of 

an  empire and  I  will  offer  her  one.    What  a  queen  she  will 

make  !  She  must  be  mine,"  added  the  speaker,  after  a  pause. 
"  Yes,  even  if  nothing  but  the  chieftainess  of  the  Beni  Mo- 

zarg  ! Her  presence  would  be  worth  a  century  of  civilization. 

But  away  such  thoughts !"  he  exclaimed  vehemently ;  "  I 
will  not  think  of  failing.  Mine  is  the  mission  to  nationalize 
the  Berber  race,  and  lead  them  on,  through  empire,  to  civiliza 
tion and  by  all  the  Prophets  !  she  shall  aid  me she 

shall  share  my  success  !" 

The  mutterings  of  the  Berber  were  cut  short  by  the  ap 
proach  of  a  person  mounted  upon  an  ass,  as  was  evinced  by 
the  patter  of  the  animal's  hoofs  on  the  sod,  and  the  encourag 
ing  rub-a-dub  kept  up  on  his  ribs  by  the  heels  of  his  rider. 

Suddenly  stepping  from  the  concealment  of  the  bush,  the 
horseman  saluted  the  new  comer  with  a  tap  on  the  shoulder, 
exclaiming,  "  You  are  behind  your  time,  good  Yacob." 

The  person  so  saluted  was  enveloped  in  a  large  black  sul- 
ham  or  gaberdine,  which,  without  the  name  pronounced  by  his 
companion,  was  sufficient  to  indicate  his  Jewish  caste. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  287 

"  Come,  don't  be  frightened,  Yacob  ;  there  is  no  one  here 
but  ourselves,"  continued  the  Berber,  as  the  Jew  started  at 
the  sudden  salutation. 

"  Holy  Father  Abraham  !"  exclaimed  Yacob,  recovering 
his  breath,  "  Casbin  el  Subah  !  How  could  you  startle  me  so  ? 
You  know  the  risk  I  run  to  meet  you  here,  and " 

"  True,  good  Yacob,  I  should  have  been  more  considerate. 
I  should  have  recollected  that  you  are  no  lion-killer,  and " 

"  Nay,  accuse  me  not  of  cowardice,  because,  unlike  you,  I 
prefer  a  quiet  dish  of  cooscoosoo  to  a  wild  boar-hunt,  or  a 
fight  with  a  lion  single-handed;  or  because  I  cannot  hear  a 
musket  fired  in  my  ear  without  starting.  Here  have  I,  the 
chief  treasurer  of  the  soltan  of  Morocco,  come  to  meet  my 
patron  at  the  imminent  risk  of  life.  Dost  thou  suppose  that 
Muley  Ismael,  if  he  knew  it,  would  be  satisfied  with  anything 
less  than  my  head  ?" 

"  I  did  thee  wrong,  good  Yacob,  and  am  sorry  for  it ;  but 
tell  me,  what  news  from  the  city — hast  kept  thy  eye  on  the 
kaid  of  the  slaves,  as  I  directed  ?" 

"  I  have ;  and  much  I  fear  the  son  of  Sheitan  has  evil  in 
his  head." 

"  I  doubt  it  not ;  but  what  is  this  plan  for  thwarting  and 
punishing  him  that  you  have  to  suggest  ?" 

"  Have  you  brought  the  necklace  that  I  mentioned  ?f>  de 
manded  the  Jew. 

"  I  have,"  said  the  Berber  :  "  here  it  is ;"  and  he  produced  a 
casket  containing  a  string  of  small  pearls. 

Yacob  took  the  box  in  his  hand,  opened  it,  and  felt  the 
pearls  for  a  moment  in  silence. 


288  THE     BERBER. 

"  The  same  !"  he  exclaimed.  "  I  could  tell  it  in  the  dark 
est  night  by  the  clumsy  and  heavy  setting.  And  you  will  not 
begrudge  this  trinket,"  demanded  Yacob,  "  to  secure  the  pu 
nishment  of  the  kaid  ?" 

"  Were  it  of  ten  times  the  value  it  is,  I  would  give  it  rea 
dily  to  avoid  the  necessity  of  dealing  with  the  kaid  myself," 
said  the  Berber.  "  You  know,  Yacob,  the  reasons  I  have  for 
avoiding  any  tumult  just  at  this  moment ;  otherwise  I  would 
carry  the  worthless  hound  out  of  the  city  by  force,  and  scourge 
him  to  death  with  the  filela  that  he  is  so  fond  of  applying  to 
the  backs  of  the  Christians." 

"  Well,  trust  me,"  exclaimed  Yacob ;  "  with  this  necklace 
I  will  make  him  jump  into  a  pit  of  his  own  digging.  You 
shall  judge  of  my  plan.  The  kaid,  you  know,  is  a  saint,  and 
one  of  the  chief  titles  to  the  honor  is  his  weekly  miracle 
of  journeying  to  Mecca  every  Friday ;  the  soltan  affects 
to  believe  in  the  fellow's  pretensions ;  but  it  would  delight 
Muley  Ismael  much  to  catch  him  in  his  villany.  Now,  I 
shall  show  this  necklace  to  the  soltan — it  is  of  too  little  value 
to  excite  his  cupidity,  but  the  oddness  of  the  setting  will  at 
tract  his  attention — and  I  shall  then  suggest  that  he  ask  the 
kaid  to  bring  him  a  pearl  necklace  from  the  Holy  City  at  his 
next  visit.  The  kaid  will  come  directly  to  me.  He  has  rob 
bed  me  many  times  of  things  twice  the  value.  I  will  be  pre 
pared  for  him  this  time.  I  shall  give  him  this,  and  he  will 
present  it  to  the  soltan  as  the  result  of  his  pretended  journey. 
Lucky  will  the  villain  be  if  he  escapes  having  every  bone  in 
his  body  broken  on  the  spot." 

"  'Tis  a  plot  worthy  of  your  subtle  genius,"  said  the  Ber- 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  289 

ber.  "  I  cannot  say  that  I  approve  of  it,  and  yet  I  will  not 
forbid  it.  But  what  if  it  should  fail]" 

"  Never  fear,"  replied  the  Jew  :  "  I  will  answer  for  its  suc 
cess  with  my  head.  I  shall  see  the  soltan  this  very  night,  and 
shall  take  him  an  account  of  the  conversion  into  coin  of  the 
jewels  of  the  Bashaw  of  Tlemcen — the  amount  will  please 
him.  To-morrow  is  Friday,  and  it  is  during  the  hours  from 
Ed-douliour  to  El-assar  that  the  kaid  makes  his  journey  ;  trust 
me,  before  to-morrow's  sun  set  the  kaid  will  have  thrown  him 
self  over  the  wall  of  the  soltau's  favor.  Let  him  cease  to  be 
kaid  of  the  slaves,  and  for  a  time,  at  least,  he  is  powerless.'* 

For  some  time  longer,  patron  and  client  remained  talking; 
but  we  have  given  enough  of  their  conversation  to  indicate  the 
principal  object  of  their  consultation,  and  the  only  one  with 
which  our  story  has  anything  directly  to  do. 

"  And  now,  good  Yacob,  it  is  time  for  us  to  separate. 
I  must  away,  for  the  tribes  of  the  Beni  Gurin ;  I  have  re 
ceived  word  that  an  expedition  is  ready  to  renew  the  old 
feuds  with  their  neighbors  of  the  Yeder.  Some  paltry,  wordy 

insult ! curses  on  these  miserable  jealousies  !    It  will  be  a 

hard  ride,  there  and  back  ;  but  I  shall  make  short  work  with 
the  revengeful  fools — and  Boroon  is  fresh.  I  shall  be  in  the 
city  to-morrow  night.  The  millah  will  be  closed ;  but  if  it 
were  not,  it  would  not  do  for  us  to  be  seen  in  communication : 

so  how  shall  I  know  that  your  scheme  has  been  successful  1 

But  it  matters  not,"  continued  the  Berber,  after  a  pause.  "  If 
the  imperial  frown  light  on  the  kaid,  the  whole  city  will  be 
filled  with  the  news." 

A  few  more  words,  and  the  Jew  seized  his  patron's  hand 
13 


290  THE     BERBER. 

and  covered  it  with  kisses.  With  many  expressions  of  affec 
tion,  uttered  in  a  tone  which  indicated  that  they  were  not  the 
words  of  mere  compliment,  he  took  his  leave,  mounting  his 
ass,  and  set  out  for  the  city. 

"  Ajee  f  ajee !  Boroon!"  cried  the  young  man;  and  the 
black  barb  sprang  up  from  his  couch,  where  he  had  quietly 
awaited  the  conclusion  of  the  conference,  and  trotted  up  to  his 
master. 

The  young  man  adjusted  the  girth,  and  then  without  touch 
ing  the  short  stirrups,  vaulted  lightly  into  the  saddle.  "You 
must  fly  to-night,  my  brave  Boroon  :  you  must  use  both  eyes 

and  feet !  Forward !  in  the  name  of  God,  Boroon,  and and 

shall  I  tell  you,  Boroon  1 — shall  I  whisper  it  to  you  ? — I  will 

It  will  put  strength  in  your  limbs  and  courage  in  your 

heart.  Forward  !  in  her  name in  the  name  of  the  Anda- 

luza  ! — in  the  name  of  Juanita  !" 

Like  the  ground  sweep  of  a  raven,  Boroon's  black  flying 
form  skimmed  the  parched  earth — leaping  ravines  and  gulleys ; 
scattering  the  dry  furze  and  thistles ;  or  dashing  up  the  pebbles 
from  the  parched  water  courses. 

The  loud  yelpings  of  packs  of  dogs  rose  from  the  distant 
douahs  ;  swelled  into  a  furious  chorus  as  the  rider  approached, 
and  died  away  again  as  the  hoofs  of  Boroon  no  longer  chal 
lenged  their  attention.  Their  frightened  masters  muttering 
their  prayers  the  while  for  preservation  from  the  djin  who  was 
thundering  by  their  tents. 


A.    TALK     OF     MOROCCO.  201 


CHAPTER    XXV. 


FRIDAY  is  the  Mohammedan  Sabbath.  During  two  or 
three  hours  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  when  the  people  repair 
to  the  mosques,  the  gates  of  the  cities  are  closed.  This  cus 
tom  originates,  it  is  said,  in  some  ancient  prediction  that  the 
country  will  be  attacked  by  the  Christians  on  Friday,  and  its 
cities  surprised  while  the  inhabitants  are  engaged  at  their  de 
votions.  After  the  religious  services  the  gates  are  thrown 
open,  the  citizens  resume  their  usual  avocations,  and  there  are 
left  no  indications  that  the  day  is  considered  especially  holy. 

Upon  the  Friday  following  the  interview  of  patron  and 
client  in  the  last  chapter,  the  soltan  rode  in  state  to  the  prin 
cipal  mosque,  accompanied  by  all  of  his  court.  As  an  especial 
honor,  Don  Orsolo  was  assigned  a  position  next  to,  and  a  little 
in  the  rear  of,  the  monarch.  A  negro  slave,  who  had  been  pre 
sented  to  him  by  the  soltan,  followed  him,  bearing  his  praying 
carpet.  Don  Diego  was  mounted  upon  a  fine  horse,  also  a 
present,  but  which  he  knew  that  he  would  be  expected  in  time 
to  pay  for  in  return  presents  of  three  times  its  value. 

The  countenance  of  the  renegade  bore  strong  indications  of 
anxiety.  His  position  close  to  the  soltan's  person,  and  within 
reach  of  the  imperial  cimeter,  was  well  known  to  be  a  dangerous 


292  THE     BERBER. 

one.  The  monarch  was,  for  the  moment,  in  good  humor ;  at 
least  such  were  the  indications  afforded  by  his  dress,  which 
throughout  was  of  white.  He  was  also  mounted  upon  a  white 
horse,  and  the  sign  was  hailed  by  the  courtiers  with  many 
expressions  of  pleasure  and  delight.  But  notwithstanding  no 
threatening  yellow  or  red  appeared  in  his  garments,  and  the 
color  of  his  horse  premised  a  quiet  and  peaceable  day,  there 
was  no  knowing  at  what  instant,  or  by  what  cause,  the  imperial 
wrath  might  be  aroused — and  then  woe  to  the  unlucky  cour 
tier  who  might  happen  to  be  within  reach !  a  look,  a  gesture, 
a  breath  was  enough,  frequently,  to  ensure  a  terrible  death. 
Another  cause  of  anxiety  to  the  renegade  was  a  doubt  as  to 
the  purposes  of  his  associate,  the  kaid  of  the  slaves.  He  knew 
that  it  was  to  the  kaid  he  was  indebted  for  a  position  in  the 
soltan's  train ;  and  the  suspicion  grew  strong  within  him  that 
he  had  been  so  placed  in  order  to  prevent  any  interference 
with  the  plans  for  the  capture  of  the  sisters.  He  doubted  not 
that  the  kaid  had  already  found,  or  could  easily  find,  some  clue 
to  the  retreat  of  the  maidens,  and  he  trembled  lest,  through 
the  treachery  of  the  negro,  he  should  be  baulked  of  both  love 
and  revenge.  Don  Diego  anxiously  scanned  the  prancing 
groups  of  Moors  and  negroes,  but  the  kaid  was  no  where  to 
be  seen.  His  convictions  grew  in  certainty  as  the  absence  of 
the  kaid  became  apparent,  and  he  bitterly  cursed  the  necessity 
that  compelled  him  to  await  a  permission  to  retire  from  the 
presence  of  the  capricious  soltan. 

Upon  leaving  the  mosque  the  soltan,  with  his  train,  passed 
on  to  a  gate  which  opened  into  a  wide  road,  separating  the 
negro  town,  or  the  quarters  of  his  black  troops,  from  the  city. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  293 

This  town  occupied  an  area  nearly  as  large  as  Mequinez,  and 
was  composed  of  a  collection  of  houses,  thatched  huts,  and 
tents,  intermingled  in  great  confusion,  and  capable  of  shelter 
ing  forty  thousand  men. 

The  troops  were  not  all  present — some  ten  thousand  of 
them  being  scattered  through  the  country  in  small  bands,  os 
tensibly  to  protect  the  Arabic  herdsmen  from  the  moun 
taineers,  but  in  reality  to  collect  their  own  pay,  in  the  shape 
of  plunder,  from  the  defenceless  douahs.  About  thirty  thou 
sand  were  in  camp,  consisting  mainly  of  slaves  brought  across 
the  desert  from  Soudan.  The  remainder  were  the  descen 
dants  of  negroes  who  had  been  introduced  into  the  country  in 
the  days  of  Muley  Moloch,  who,  making  a  military  excursion 
to  Timbuctoo,  was  the  first  to  organize  a  corps  of  black 
soldiers. 

Licentious,  savage,  reckless — paying  themselves  mostly 
by  plunder  of  the  people,  and  consequently  detested  by  the 
Moors — these  troops  formed  the  chief  dependance  of  the  ty 
rant.  His  Moorish  soldiers  he  dared  not  trust ;  and  although 
he  knew  that  the  blacks  felt  no  particular  attachment  to  his 
person,  yet  it  was  their  interest  to  serve  him  faithfully,  and 
he  felt  that  he  could  count  upon  the  instincts  of  self.  No 
thing  delighted  the  jealous  old  tyrant  more  than  to  visit  the 
camp  :  and  upon  the  present  occasion  he  was  all  complaisance 
and  good  nature.  He  threw  himself  from  his  horse ;  seated 
himself  upon  a  carpet  at  the  foot  of  an  aged  olive  tree,  and 
received  with  great  graciousness  the  kaids  and  other  officers  of 
the  various  corps.  Two  or  three  hours  passed,  during  which 
Don  Diego  was  compelled  to  remain  a  silent  but  impatient 
spectator  of  the  ceremony. 


294  THE     BERBER. 

At  length  the  soltan  mounted  his  horse  and  set  out  on  his 
return.  The  instant  his  leg  crossed  the  saddle  the  expression 
of  his  face  underwent  a  sudden  change.  The  old  courtiers, 
who  noticed  the  peculiar  sparkle  of  the  imperial  eye,  and  the 
nervous  retraction  of  the  lips,  knew  that  some  unfortunate 
would  have  to  pay,  with  broken  bones  at  least,  for  the  few 
hours  of  good  humor  in  which  the  soltan  had  indulged. 

Moodily  Muley  Ismael  moved  down  the  wide  lane  be 
tween  the  camp  and  the  city,  until  he  arrived  at  the  gate  open 
ing  through  the  first  line  of  triple  walls,  then  surrounding 
Mequinez.  Here  he  paused.  A  battery  of  artillery  com 
menced  firing  a  salute,  and  a  crowd  of  people,  for  the  thou 
sandth  time  that  day,  took  up  the  shout — "  God  preserve  our 
lord  the  shereef !  Long  life  to  the  soltan !" 

A  man  mounted  upon  a  fine  barb  suddenly  spurred  up 
to  within  a  few  yards  of  the  soltan,  and  checking  his  steed, 
sprang  from  the  saddle.  Crouching  to  the  ground,  he  glid 
ed  forward,  and  pressed  his  lips  several  times  in  quick  suc 
cession  to  the  imperial  slipper. 

"  Ha  !"  exclaimed  Muley  Ismael.  "  Kaid  Hammed  ibn 
Slowek !  fresh  from  the  city  of  the  Prophet,  oh  !  most  holy 
saint  ?"  and  a  slight  sneer  curled  the  corners  of  the  soltan's 
mouth. 

"  May  it  please  my  lord,"  replied  the  kaid,  "  the  miracle 
of  God — to  whom  be  all  praise — has  again  been  performed  in 
my  unworthy  person.  I  have  been  to  Mecca." 

"  And  how  fares  it  in  the  Holy  City  T'  demanded  Muley 
Ismael.  "  The  Kaaha  still  stands  as  it  stood  in  El  Haram 
when  you  were  there  last  week  ?" 


A      TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  295 

"  The  House  of  God  is  as  it  was  in  the  court  of  the  Tem 
ple,"  replied  the  kaid,  trembling;  for  there  was  something 
portentous  in  the  tones  of  the  soltan's  voice. 

"  And  did  you  kiss  the  Adjun  Assouad?" 

"  My  lips  pressed  the  black  stone  of  the  Kaaba,"  answered 
the  kaid. 

"Oh!  most  holy  saint!"  exclaimed  the  soltan ;  "well 
may  you  bless  God — for  he  blesses  thee.  Did  you  drink 
of  the  waters  of  Zemzem  ?" 

"  The  shereef  of  the  well  presented  the  draught  with  his 
own  hands,"  said  the  kaid. 

"La  illahha  ilia  Allah  /"  exclaimed  Muley  Ismael,  rolling 
his  eyes  up  in  affected  devotion.  "  What  a  miracle !  Here, 
let  my  hand  touch  the  lips  that  have  so  recently  pressed  the 
black  stone,  and  been  wetted  with  the  waters  of  Zemzem" 

The  kaid  seized  the  soltan's  hand,  and  kissed  it  repeatedly. 

"  Dids't  think  of  what  I  charged  thee  1"  said  Muley  Is 
mael,  bending  down  from  his  saddle,  and  speaking  in  a 
low  voice. 

"  Is  the  slave  of  my  lord  the  shereef  deaf,  that  he  cannot 
hear  ?"  exclaimed  the  kaid ;  "  is  he  worse  than  a  hound, 
that  he  should  forget  the  commands  of  his  master  ]  Look, 
oh,  thou  descendant  of  the  true  Prophet  of  God — may  Sidi 
ever  be  as  faithfully  served  !" 

The  kaid  fumbled  for  a  while  at  his  girdle,  and  producing 
a  small  leather  box,  presented  it  to  the  soltan. 

Muley  Ismael  took  the  casket  and  opened  it. 

"  'Tis  of  but  little  value,"  said  the  trembling  kaid,  who 
noticed  a  peculiar  twinkle  of  the  soltan's  eye,  as  it  fell  upon 


296  THE     BERBER. 

the  string  of  pearls  ;  "  but,  by  the  holy  hills  of  Shedoud  and 
She-she  !  it  was  the  best  in  all  Mecca " 

The  protestations  of  the  kaid  were  cut  short  by  a  loud 
laugh  from  Muley  Ismael.  Again  and  again  the  soltan  looked 
at  the  necklace  in  his  hand,  and  throwing  himself  backward 
and  forward  in  the  saddle,  indulged  in  very  unkingly  and  un- 
Mussulman-like  fits  of  laughter.  The  humor  of  the  monarch 
spread,  and,  notwithstanding  the  usual  rigidity  of  Moorish 
gravity,  a  general  laugh  arose  from  the  train  of  courtiers,  al 
though  not  one  of  them  knew  what  he  was  laughing  at. 

"  Where  is  Yacob  Benoliiel  ]"  demanded  the  soltan. 

The  duties  of  treasurer  to  the  soltan,  although  differing 
from  what  the  title  would  import — Muley  Ismael  acting,  in 
fact,  as  his  own  treasurer — required  the  close  attendance  of 
the  officer  of  that  name  ;  and  it  was  but  a  moment  when 
Yacob,  bowing  and  cringing,  crept  to  the  soltan's  side. 

The  Jew  was  a  man  of  about  thirty,  with  the  characteristic 
features  of  his  race,  which,  when  seen — as  is  sometimes  the 
case  in  Barbary — in  the  young,  before  oppression  and  cruelty, 
and  the  sordid  pursuit  of  precarious  wealth,  have  debased  the 
expression,  affords  one  of  the  noblest  types  of  human  beauty. 
In  the  present  case  there  was  a  certain  manliness  of  expression, 
which  at  his  age  indicated,  despite  the  cringing  attitudes  of 
his  body,  that  he  had  not  always  been  a  Jew  of  the  towns. 
He  was  clad  in  a  long,  black  sulham ;  a  small,  black  skull 
cap  fitted  his  head,  and  in  his  hand  he  carried  his  black  slip 
pers,  which  he  had  pulled  off  from  his  feet  when  called  by 
the  soltan. 

"Ha!  ha!"  laughed  Muley  Ismael.  "Look  at  this, 
Yacob  :  did  you  ever  see  it  before  1  Ha  !  ha  !" 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  297 

It  was  dangerous  to  laugh — it  was  dangerous  not  to  laugh; 
and  Yaeob  contented  himself  with  a  slight  chuckle  and  a 
steady  look  at  the  necklace  that  the  soltan  held  in  his  hand. 

"  Hast  seen  it  before  T  demanded  Muley  Ismael. 

"  May  it  please  my  lord  the  soltan,  I  have,"  said  Yacob. 

"  When  and  where  ?''  demanded  Muley  Ismael,  in  a  voice 
from  which  all  tones  of  mirth  had  departed. 

"  As  the  life  of  Sidi  is  precious,  I  had  it  in  my  hand 
this  morning." 

"•  Well  I''  exclaimed  Muley  Ismael ;  "  what  became  of  it  ?" 

"  Thy  servant  the  kaid  saw  it,  and  afterwards  he  came  to 
me  in  great  haste,  and  demanded  that  I  should  give  it  to  him. 
He  swore  that  if  I  failed,  the  light  of  Sidi's  eyes  should  be 
withdrawn  from  me ;  and,  as  I  live  but  in  the  smiles  of  my 
lord  the  soltan,  I  was  forced  to  comply." 

"  Mercy  !  Justice  !  Oh  !  Sidi !  justice  !"  exclaimed  the 
kaid,  sinking  to  his  knees.  "  Believe  not  the  Jew — he  is  a 
liar  !  He  is  trying  to  throw  dust  in  the  eyes  of  my  lord. 
The  curse  of  the  Prophet  be  on  his  race  !  Oh  !  Sidi,  trust  him 
not !  Next  Friday  will  prove  my  truth.  The  angel  Gabriel 
will  aid  me,  and  the  biggest  pearls  from  Ormuz  shall  string  a 
necklace  for  my  lord  the  shereef." 

Muley  Ismael  said  nothing,  but  slightly  raising  his  hand, 
his  executioners  seized  the  kaid,  and  tossing  him  high  in  the 
air,  let  him  fall  head  first  to  the  ground.  The  kaid's  collar 
bone  was  fractured,  and  an  arm  dislocated ;  but  still  he  pre 
served  his  senses,  and  notwithstanding  the  pain  he  suffer 
ed,  lay  perfectly  motionless,  as  if  dead,  upon  the  ground. 
The  executioners  stood  over  him,  ready  to  repeat  the  opera- 

13* 


298  THE     BERBER. 

tion,  and  waiting  for  the  signal  from  the  soltan.  Muley  Ismael, 
however,  appeared  to  be  satisfied  with  the  punishment  inflict 
ed  ;  and  turning  away,  he  glanced  around  upon  the  silent 
crowd.  His  eyes  lighted  upon  Don  Diego. 

"  Kaid  Suleiman,"  exclaimed  the  soltan,  addressing  the 
don  by  his  new  Mohammedan  name,  "  you  will  step  into 
this  man's  slippers — you  are  kaid  of  the  slaves."* 

The  soltan  waved  his  hand  to  the  crowd  of  courtiers  and 
dignitaries,  and  spurring  his  horse,  dashed  in  through  the  gate, 
accompanied  only  by  his  executioners  and  a  few  favorite  offi 
cers  of  the  black  troops.  He  rode  rapidly  on  to  the  palace,  tak 
ing  no  further  notice  of  the  deposed  kaid  than  to  whisper  an 
order  that  an  officer  should  visit  his  house,  and  secure  for  the 
imperial  treasury  anything  of  value  that  might  be  found. 

The  slight  knowledge  of  Arabic  possessed  by  the  renegade 
would  have  scarcely  enabled  him  to  comprehend  the  words  of 
the  soltan,  had  they  not  received  an  instant  illustration  in  the 
altered  manner  of  the  surrounding  officials.  Congratulations 
upon  his  good  fortune  were  showered  upon  him  in  Arabic 
and  Spanish,  and  many  rushed  forward  to  kiss  his  hands  and 
his  garments.  The  don  suddenly  found  himself  a  man  of 
power,  the  exact  extent  of  which  he  was  ignorant  of,  but 
which  he  resolved  to  take  immediate  measures  to  ascertain. 
Accompanied  by  a  crowd  of  people,  he  set  out  for  the  quarter 
of  the  slaves.  A  dozen  ragged  renegades  surrounded  his 


*  Again  will  the  author  take  the  liberty  of  saying  that  this  is  no  mere 
invention  of  an  unfortunate  novelist,  hard  pushed  for  an  incident,  but  an 
actual  and  authentic  fact. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  299 

horse,  quarrelling  with  each  other  for  the  position  of  interpre 
ter  to  the  new  dignitary,  and  ever  and  anon  shouting  to 
the  populace,  "  Clear  the  way  for  our  lord  the  kaid  of  the 
Christians — room  for  the  favorite  of  Sidi,  the  shereef !" 

The  fallen  kaid,  deserted  by  all  but  a  few  negro  soldiers, 
who  still  retained  some  reverence  for  his  sanctity,  was  assisted 
to  a  hut  in  the  camp,  where  his  arm  was  rudely  pulled  back 
into  place,  while  the  fractured  collar  bone  was  left  to  unite 
itself  as  it  best  could.  The  kaid,  stretched  upon  the  hard 
ground,  had  good  opportunity  for  reflection  upon  the  uncer 
tainty  of  all  sublunary  things,  especially  under  a  despotic 
government ;  but  the  usual  philosophic  resignation  to  the  or- 
derings  of  Providence,  characterizing  a  faith  in  El  Islam, 
marked  his  manner,  and  he  bore  the  reverse  of  fortune  and 
the  pain  of  his  wounds  with  a  calm  patience,  that  in  a  Christian 
land  would  have  been  singularly  edifying. 


300  THE     BERBER. 


CHAPTER    XXVI 


THE  news  of  the  deposition  and  punishment  of  the  kaid  of 
the  slaves  spread  rapidly  throughout  the  city.  It  was  eagerly 
canvassed  at  the  corners  of  the  streets  and  in  the  numerous 
little  coffee  houses,  where  were  assembled  parties  of  quid 
nuncs,  some  playing  at  chess  and  draughts,  others  idly  squat 
ted  on  strips  of  carpet  around  the  rooms,  or  on  pieces  of  mat 
ting  in  the  open  patio,  and  all  waiting  the  hour  when  the  star 
light  should  permit  an  indulgence  in  the  fragrant  mocha  or  in 
tea,  (the  newer  and  more  fashionable  beverage  which  has  since 
quite  superceded  the  Arabic  berry,)  or  in  the  more  exciting 
pleasure  of  the  haschschese,  while  some  few  in  despite  of  the 
commands  of  the  Prophet  were  secretly  revelling  in  the  anti 
cipations  of  numerous  strong  doses  of  Jew  brandy,  well  spiced 
with  aniseed,  or,  worse  than  that  in  the  eyes  of  good  Mussul- 
men,  a  long  pull  at  the  bo ta  of  Spanish  wine. 

The  subject  was  an  unusually  interesting  one,  inasmuch  as 
it  involved  the  questions  of  the  kaid's  sanctity,  and  the  truth 
of  the  miracle  which  he  pretended  was  performed  each  week  in 
his  own  person  on  Friday.  The  general  impression  seemed  to 
be  that  the  journeys  to  Mecca  were  actually  performed,  but 
that  the  kaid  was  very  much  to  blame  for  not  bringing  the 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  301 

soltan  a  present  of  more  value.  A  few  there  were  who  ener 
getically  opposed  this  view  of  the  subject;  but  their  argu 
ments  and  assertions  were  listened  to  with  distrust.  The 
pretended  journey  had  all  the  essential  claims  of  anything 
strange  or  new  upon  popular  credulity.  It  was  incompre 
hensible — absurd  ;  a  violation  of  all  actual  knowledge,  and 
supported  by  no  testimony  that  was  worth  anything.  Now  it 
may  be  asserted,  without  fear  of  denial,  that  in  no  Christian 
community  of  the  present  day  can  any  proposition,  possessing 
similar  claims  to  public  faith,  be  started  without  finding  at 
once  defenders  and  expounders.  In  fact,  it  may  be  asserted 
that  if  any  ridiculous  and  absurd  proposition  or  pretension 
fails  to  impose  upon  the  credulity  of  a  certain  order  of  minds, 
it  is  because  it  is  not  absurd  and  ridiculous  enough.  Who 
can  wonder  then,  that,  at  that  period,  among  the  superstitious 
and  ignorant  Moors,  the  pretensions  of  the  deposed  saint 
should  be  received  as  truth  1 

Within  and  around  the  open  gate  where  the  encounter 
between  the  kaid  and  the  soltan  had  taken  place,  was  one 
of  these  groups,  composed  of  a  few  lounging  guards,  half 
a  dozen  black  soldiers  from  the  camp,  and  a  crowd  of  country 
men  and  women,  who  were  passing  backward  and  forward  ; 
some  mounted  on  asses,  some  driving  the  little  animals  before 
them,  with  their  bodies  half  hidden  in  immense  loads  of  char 
coal  and  firewood. 

Among  the  throng  collected  to  listen  to  the  discussion  of 
the  events  that  had  just  occurred,  was  a  figure  that  the  reader, 
having  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  under  his  different  disguis 
es,  would  at  a  glance  have  recognized  as  the  Berber.  He  was  on 


302  THE     BERBER. 

foot,  Boroon  having  been  left  at  a  little  distance  without  the 
walls,  in  charge  of  a  peasant,  whose  small  garden,  surrounded 
by  a  fence  of  tall  reeds,  afforded  a  secure  asylum.  Observing 
the  excited  crowd,  he  paused  in  the  arched  passage-way  be 
neath  the  gate  to  learn  the  news. 

Glad  of  an  auditor  who  had  heard  nothing  of  the  affair, 
the  garrulous  old  gate-keeper  readily  recounted  the  principal 
circumstances,  which,  as  he  had  been  present  upon  the  spot, 
he  described  much  more  correctly  than  his  hearer  would  have 
heard  them  within  the  city,  where,  although  but  an  hour  had 
elapsed,  a  dozen  different  versions  were  flying  about.  The 
Berber  listened  attentively,  asked  a  few  questions  respecting 
the  appointment  of  the  renegade  to  the  office  of  kaid  of  the 
slaves,  and  then  slouching  the  hood  of  his  djellabeah  a  little 
more  over  his  face,  passed  on  and  entered  the  city. 

"  This  must  be  looked  to,"  he  muttered  to  himself :  "  and 
that  quickly.  Yacob's  manoeuvre  succeeded  admirably  with 
the  negro.  So  far  so  well :  he  is  disposed  of  for  a  while — and 
Yacob's  position  is  secure.  But  as  to  these  Christians,  much 
I  fear  the  deposition  of  the  negro  will  not  serve  them.  This 
renegade  will  spare  no  pains  to  find  them.  But  he  cannot 
know  as  yet  where  they  are !" 

The  Berber  paused  and  mused  for  a  moment;  then  re 
suming  his  walk,  he  turned  into  the  street  leading  to  the  quar 
ters  of  the  slaves.  At  the  gate  of  the  guard-house  he  stopped 
and  looked  in.  A  dozen  guards  were  chatting  in  the  skeffa, 
and  as  many  more  could  be  seen  in  the  patio  beyond.  At 
that  hour  the  sight  was  unusual — the  sun  being  yet  half  an 
hour  below  the  horizon,  and  the  slaves  not  having  returned 


A     TALE     OP     MOROCCO.  303 

from  their  work.  The  chief  duty  of  the  guard  being,  as  we 
have  said,  to  protect  the  Christian  quarter  from  the  attacks  of 
the  populace,  rather  than  to  prevent  the  escape  of  the  slaves. 

Casbin  el  Subah  glanced  carelessly  into  the  vestibule, 
raised  his  hand  as  if  to  feel  his  beard  in  the  Moorish  style, 
and  passed  on.  Slowly  one  of  the  guards  rose  from  the  floor 
and  sauntered  out  into  the  street.  As  he  disappeared  from 
the  sight  of  his  companions  he  quickened  his  steps,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  overtook  the  Berber. 

"  Amizerg  /"  exclaimed  the  soldier,  in  a  low  tone. 

"  Amekran  /"  replied  the  Berber. 

The  soldier  pressed  to  the  side  of  Casbin,  and  glancing 
around,  to  make  sure  that  no  one  was  within  sight,  touched 
the  garments  of  the  chief,  and  then  carried  his  hand  to  his 
eyes  and  his  lips.  A  few  sentences  in  the  Berber  language 
passed  between  them.  Some  communication  of  interest  it 
evidently  was,  for  Casbin  started ;  and  suddenly  motioning 
to  the  soldier  to  return,  he  himself  turned,  and  with  a  rapid 
step  pursued  his  way  to  the  house  of  Abdallah. 

As  he  raised  the  heavy  iron  knocker,  the  door  was  opened 
by  the  kaid  himself,  to  give  egress  to  a  man  dressed  in  a 
coarse  black  bornoose,  and  an  old  greasy  skull  cap  of  the 
same  color.  The  Jew  (for  such  the  color  of  his  garments,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  cringing  air  and  suspicious  look,  and  the 
striking  national  features,  sufficiently  indicated  him  to  be) 
glanced  furtively  at  the  Berber,  threw  his  black  slippers  that 
he  carried  in  his  hand  upon  the  ground,  thrust  his  naked  feet 
into  them,  and  shuffled  off  in  apparent  haste  and  fear  of 
observation. 


304  THE     BERBER. 

Casbm  stepped  within  the  skeffa,  and  Abdallah  closed  the 
door.  The  kaid  was  too  much  of  a  gentleman  to  indicate,  by 
word  or  look,  either  curiosity  or  surprise.  To  the  usual  com 
posed  and  self-possessed  substratum  of  good  manners,  common 
to  the  Moor  of  almost  every  degree,  he  added  the  polish  of  the 
travelled  and  educated  cosmopolite.  With  the  usual  expres 
sions  of  welcome  and  a  courteous  gesture,  he  invited  his  guest 
into  the  patio. 

"  May  your  politeness  never  be  abused,"  replied  Casbin ; 
"  but  I  need  not  enter  further.  I  have  but  a  few  words  to  say. 
I  have  this  moment  learned  that  imminent  danger  again 
threatens  the  Nazarine  maidens." 

"So  far  from  it,"  replied  Abdallah,  "their  chief  enemy, 
Hammed  ben  Slowek,  has  been  put  beyond  the  power  of  harm 
ing  them  by  the  soltan  himself.  He  made  his  journey  to 
Mecca  to-day  ;  but,  praise  be  to  God  !  the  son  of  a  burnt 
grandfather  brought  back  a  skin  full  of  broken  bones." 

"  I  heard  the  news  as  I  entered  the  gates,"  replied 
Casbin :  "  but  if  one  plotter  of  evil  has  been  put  out  of  the 
way,  another  has  taken  his  place." 

"  Kaid  Suleiman,  the  renegade  ]" 

"  Don  Diego  de  Orsolo  that  was the  cousin  of  the  sis 
ters — the  lover  of  the  eldest,  and  their  bitterest  foe." 

"  True — I  have  learned  as  much  from  my  child  Xaripha ; 
from  the  rais  and  his  brother ;  and  from  the  maidens  them 
selves.  But  this  renegade  ! niay  the  mercies  of  the  Inqui 
sition  some  day  fall  upon  him this  Kaid  Suleiman ! he 

can  as  yet  know  nothing  of  their  retreat !" 

"  It  will  not  do  to  trust  to  his  ignorance,"  interposed  the 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  305 

Berber.  "  I  know  that  he  fancies  he  has  a  clue,  and  he  is 
not  the  man  to  let  the  thread  break  in  his  hands.  He  has  re 
ceived  some  communication  of  interest,  and  he  has  ordered 
that  a  detachment  of  his  guards  shall  hold  themselves  in 
readiness  for  service  to-night.  I  know  not,"  continued  the 
Berber,  "  that  the  movement  refers  to  the  maidens,  but  it  looks 
very  much  like  it.  At  any  rate,  you  must  apprise  the  rais, 
and  we  must  hold  ourselves  in  readiness  to '*' 

"Change  their  residence  again]"  demanded  Abdallah. 
"  It  seems  that  we  shall  not  gain  much  by  that,  if  their  hiding- 
place  is  to  be  so  easily  discovered/' 

"No!"  answered  the  Berber,  musingly :  "  not  to  change 
their  residence,  but  to  leave  the  city." 

"  Will  it  be  safe  to  do  so  1  Can  you  secure  their  re 
treat  to  the  hills  f '  asked  the  kaid. 

"  I  think  it  can  be  done  without  danger,"  replied  the  Ber 
ber.  "  The  soltan  has  issued  orders  for  a  general  review  on 
the  plain  of  Sakel,to  terminate  with  the  lab  el  barode  and  a 
feast  at  night.  You  know  how  fond  of  the  '  powder  play  '  the 
troops  are.  That  and  the  feast  will  bring  in  all  the  bands  that 
are  now  occupying  the  country  between  us  and  the  hills.  By 
making  a  detour  from  the  north  gate,  I  think  that  we  shall  be 
able  to  reach  the  great  ravine  of  Habab  without  encountering 
any  enemies." 

"'Tis  different  from  my  original  design,"  he  continued, 
"  which  was  to  collect  force  enough  to  drive  the  blacks  into  the 
city  by  a  sudden  and  rapid  attack,  and  to  receive  the  maidens 
the  moment  they  left  the  gates.  But  to  do  that  requires  time, 
and  if  this  new  kaid  has  any  knowledge  of  their  hiding-place 
we  have  no  time  to  spare." 


306  THE    BERBER. 

"  The  lab  el  barode  favors  us,"  replied  Abdallah.  "  Besides, 
the  journey  cannot  be  so  dangerous.  Do  you  not  pass  back 
and  forth  from  the  mountains  without  difficulty  ?" 

"  You  forget !"  said  the  Berber.  "  I  am  a  mounted  djin. 
A  million  of  men  could  not  make  a  barrier  that  Boroon  and  I 
alone  could  not  pass ;  but  with  a  party  badly  mounted,  and  fe 
males  too,  it  would  be  quite  another  thing.  But  as  you  say, 
the  lab  el  barode  will  help  us,  and  a  bold  push  for  safety 
is  better  than  for  them  to  remain  longer  in  the  city.  Art 
sure  that  the  day  after  to-morrow  is  the  appointed  time  for  the 
'powder  burning?'" 

"  I  heard  the  order  fall  from  the  soltan's  lips,"  replied 
Abdallah. 

"  You  will  give  us  a  pass  for  the  gates  ?"  asked  Casbin. 

"  It  will  not  be  needed,"  said  Abdallah. 

"  How  so  T  demanded  the  Berber.  "  The  guard  will  not 
open  the  gates  at  night,  without  some  warrant  for  it,  and  it  will 
be  difficult  to  pass  the  maidens  over  the  walls." 

"  I  shall  go  with  you,"  replied  the  kaid,  "  and  I  will  take  it 
upon  myself  to  see  that  there  is  no  difficulty  about  the  gates. 
'Tis  the  last  order  I  shall  give  respecting  them,  and  no  fear  but 
that  it  will  be  obeyed." 

"  Ah !"  exclaimed  the  Berber,  "  that  is  fortunate  indeed.  I 
supposed  that  you  were  hardly  prepared  to  set  out  so  soon ;  but 
if  you  are  ready  you  need  not  hesitate  in  an  open  exercise  of 
your  authority  as  kaid  of  the  gates.  You  will  apprise  the  rais  of 
our  plans  1" 

"  At  once and  I  will  also  proceed  to  make  such  prepa 
rations  for  travelling  as  the  character  of  our  party  will  require. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  SO? 

I  will  order  horses  and  mules  to  be  in  readiness  outside  the  gate." 

The  details  of  the  plan  were  few  and  simple,  and  when 
settled  the  Berber  took  his  leave.  Abdallah  lingered  for  a 
moment  to  give  his  orders  to  Xaripha  and  Fatima,  and  then 
sallied  into  the  street. 

The  worthy  kaid  was  well  pleased  with  the  turn  that  af 
fairs  had  taken.  His  anxiety  to  get  away  from  the  city  had 
been  increased  very  much  within  a  day  or  two  by  several 
courteous  salutations  from  the  soltan.  Muley  Ismael  had 
even  condescended  to  proffer,  with  one  of  his  mildest  grins,  the 
palm  of  his  hand  to  the  kaid  to  kiss.  Abdallah  was  a  brave 
man,  but  he  thought  of  Xaripha,  and  trembled.  He  knew  that 
the  tiger  was  crouching  for  a  spring,  and  with  desperate  ener 
gy  hastened  his  preparations  for  flight.  The  Jew,  who  left  his 
door  as  the  Berber  entered,  was  the  agent  through  whom  he 
had  at  last  succeeded  in  converting  the  bulk  of  his  property  into 
bills  of  exchange  upon  Marseilles  and  Leghorn  ;  an  operation, 
under  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  case,  of  extreme  diffi 
culty  and  danger.  He  was  now  free  to  go,  and  nothing  could 
come  more  opportunely  than  the  proposition  of  the  Berber  to 
start  that  night. 

With  a  buoyant  step  he  visited  the  northern  gate  to  see 
that  it  was  in  charge  of  an  officer  who  knew  his  person  and 
office.  He  then  went  to  his  stables,  and  selecting  the  requisite 
number  of  the  finest  horses  and  mules,  despatched  them  in 
charge  of  a  groom,  with  orders  to  pass  the  gate  before  it  was 
closed  for  the  night,  and  to  halt  at  the  dilapidated  sanctorium 
of  Sidi  Hali,  a  famous  saint  of  the  olden  time. 

The  lingering  rays  of  twilight  tinted  a  few  light  fleecy 


308  THE      BERBER. 

clouds  with  crimson,  and  lighted  up  the  gilding  of  the  domes 
and  minarets  as  the  kaid  sought  the  house  of  the  rais. 

It  was  with  no  ordinary  feelings  of  satisfaction  that  Has 
san  listened  to  the  communication  of  the  kaid.  Shut  up 
within  the  walls  of  a  strange  city — hampered  in  his  move 
ments  by  the  necessity  of  caution — and  powerless  himself  in 
view  of  the  several  evil  influences  at  work  around  him,  he 
longed  to  get  away  to  some  place,  where,  if  there  was  still 
something  to  fear,  there  would  be  at  least  greater  freedom  of 
action.  His  sense  of  the  dangers  threatening  the  sisters  was 
very  much  heightened  by  the  almost  complete  inactivity  to 
which,  by  his  position,  he  was  doomed.  He  felt  that  he  could 
do  but  little  to  unravel  or  to  counteract  the  plots  that  his  and 
their  enemies  were  weaving.  He  could  not  watch  over  them 
as  he  wished,  for  until  the  streets  had  become  silent  at  night 
he  dared  not  show  himself  in  the  neighborhood  of  their  dwell 
ing.  He  dared  not  trust  himself  again  at  court.  He  had 
escaped  once,  but  he  knew  the  risk  of  attracting  the  royal  at 
tention  too  strongly  to  himself  or  his  proteges.  Having  been 
brought  up  mostly  at  sea,  he  felt  out  of  his  element  in  the 
streets  of  a  city  and  the  purlieus  of  a  court.  His  joy  was 
unbounded,  although  subdued  in  its  expression,  when  the  kaid 
informed  him  that  the  Berber  advised  their  departure  that 
night.  His  confidence  in  the  judgment  and  resources  of  the 
young  chief  of  the  Beni  Mozarg  was  unlimited,  and  his  eye 
flashed  and  his  cheek  glowed  at  the  thought  of  once  more 
seeing  Isabel,  under  circumstances  which,  if  not  devoid  of 
danger,  would  at  least  make  his  devotion  of  some  service  in 
her  defence. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  309 

"  Think  you,"  he  demanded,  "  that  this  renegade  has  disco 
vered  the  house  1" 

"  I  know  not,"  replied  Abdallah.  "  The  Berber  did  not  de 
tail  fully  the  grounds  of  his  suspicion.  But  even  if  he  has  dis 
covered  it,  he  will  hardly  attempt  an  arrest  before  midnight, 
and  by  that  time  we  shall  be  away.  Recollect,"  continued 
Abdallah,  pulling  from  within  the  folds  of  his  sash  a  large 
French  watch,  "  in  three  hours  you  will  stop  for  me,  and  to 
gether  we  will  go  for  the  maidens :  they  will  need  no  prepa 
ration  for  their  flight ;  and,  besides,  the  Berber,  I  presume,  will 
apprise  them  ;  so  that  it  will  be,  perhaps,  as  well  for  you  not 
to  venture  out  until  the  time  for  action  arrives." 

Abdallah  took  his  leave,  and  the  rais  remained  pacing  with 
calm  and  deliberate  step,  but  with  inward  impatience  and 
anxiety,  the  darkened  court.  An  hour  passed — the  anxiety  of 
the  rais  increased.  The  apprehensions  of  the  lover  became  more 
and  more  excited  the  longer  his  thoughts  dwelt  upon  the  beau 
ty  of  Isabel,  the  passion  of  Don  Diego,  and  the  suspicions  of 
the  Berber.  A  conviction  came  over  him  that  his  energetic 
and  now  powerful  enemy  would  not  wait  till  midnight  to 
clutch  such  a  prize. 

The  young  man  was  right ;  but  he  little  dreamed  of  a  more 
imminent  danger  than  even  the  revenge  of  the  renegade,  that, 
alas!  thanks  to  the  stupid  jealousy  of  Fatima,  was  at  that 
moment  impending  over  his  beloved. 


310  THE     BERBER. 


CHAPTER   XXVII, 


WE  need  not  dwell  upon  the  feelings  of  Don  Orsolo  upon 
finding  himself  so  suddenly  appointed  to  the  office  of  kaid  of 
the  Christians.  He  was  too  much  of  a  Spaniard,  and,  despite 
his  apostacy,  too  much  of  a  Christian,  to  really  value,  for  its 
own  sake,  any  dignity  in  the  power  of  the  Moorish  soltan  to 
bestow;  but  he  could  hardly  conceal  the  feelings  of  satisfaction 
with  which  he  saw  his  treacherous  friend  Hammed  removed 
from  his  path,  and  himself  endowed  with  the  power  to  gratify 
the  two  strongest  passions  of  his  nature — love  and  revenge. 
He  knew  not  the  retreat  of  the  sisters,  but  he  was  convinced 
that  they  were  still  in  the  city,  and  he  doubted  not  that,  with 
the  whole  force  of  his  department  at  his  command,  he  should 
be  able  in  a  day  or  two  to  find  some  clue  to  their  place  of 
concealment. 

Fortune  favored  him  beyond  his  expectations.  Riding  ra 
pidly  to  the  guard-house  of  the  Christian  quarter,  he  dismount 
ed,  and  took  possession  of  the  principal  saloon.  For  two  or 
three  hours  he  was  busied  in  receiving  the  congratulations  of 
the  officers  of  the  guard,  and  of  numerous  dignitaries  who, 
with  the  instinct  of  the  courtly  sycophant,  flocked  to  offer 
their  homage  to  the  latest  favorite  of  royalty.  The  don  soon 


A    TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  311 

tired  of  the  repetition  of  the  same  fulsome  compliments.  He 
longed  to  be  alone,  that  he  might  take  counsel  with  his  own 
mind  as  to  the  course  he  should  pursue.  The  happy  thought 
occurred  to  him  of  proposing  a  feast  in  the  court,  and  inviting 
all  to  join  in  it  as  soon  as  the  signals  from  the  minarets  should 
permit.  Issuing  orders  for  a  sufficient  quantity  of  cooscoosoo, 
he  abruptly  dismissed  his  hungry  guests,  who  in  view  of  the 
liberality  of  the  new  kaid,  reluctantly  consented  to  leave  him 
for  awhile  to  himself. 

Slowly  the  renegade  paced  the  tessellated  floor  of  the  long 
and  narrow  saloon.  The  rays  of  the  setting  sun  fell  more  and 
more  obliquely  into  the  court :  the  shadows  deepened  within 
the  arches  of  the  folding-doors.  The  gloom  of  night  gathered 
in  the  recesses  of  the  vaulted  room  :  the  gloom  of  a  still 
deeper  night  gathered  in  the  recesses  of  the  renegade's  heart. 
A  vision  of  eternal  punishment  rose  before  him — the  maledic 
tions  of  the  church  rang  in  his  ears — a  feeling  of  despair  and 
remorse  made  his  flesh  creep,  and  his  hair  to  stand  on  end. 

"  And  she she,"  he  exclaimed,    clutching  his  hand  and 

grinding  his  teeth,  while  the  perspiration  oozed  in  large  drops 
from  his  brow,  "  is  the  cause  of  it  all !  She  drove  me  after 
that  cursed  gallant !  she  sent  me  a  slave  among  these  bar 
barians  !  she  compelled  me  to  renounce  my  God  !  But  my 
revenge  shall  come.  The  Englishman — pah  !  I  hardly  hate 

him.      He  shall  feel  the  point  of  my  dagger but  I  hardly 

hate  him.    I  could  almost  feel  it  in  my  heart  to  let  him  go ; 
but  she !  by  all  the  fiends,  she  shall  go  down  to  hell  with  me." 
The  don  struck  his  clenched  hand  against  his  brow,  and 
uttered  a  low  groan  of  rage  and  anguish. 


312  THE     BERBER. 

A  black  slave  glided  into  the  court  and  stood  in  the  door 
way.  The  renegade  turned  fiercely  towards  the  intruder. 

"  May  God  preserve  my  lord,"  said  the  black  ;  "  I  have 
news  for  the  kaid  of  the  Christians." 

"  Sere,  sere  f  off— away  with  you  !"   shouted  the  renegade. 

The  black  shrunk  back ;  paused  for  a  moment,  and  then 
said,  hesitatingly,  in  broken  Spanish,  "  I  have  news  of  the 
Christian  women  to  give  my  lord ;  but  it  may  be  that  my  lord 
cares  not  to  know  of  them  as  did  kaid  Hammed. 

"  What  Christian  women  ?"  demanded  Orsolo,  and  sud 
denly  seizing  the  astonished  black  he  dragged  him  into  the 
darkened  saloon. 

"  What  women  ?  Speak,  speak,  I  say!"  And  the  rene 
gade,  in  his  excitement,  grasped  the  black  by  the  breast  of  his 
djellabeah,  and  gave  him  two  or  three  vigorous  shakes. 

The  first  idea  that  comes  into  the  head  of  a  Moor,  when  a 
little  frightened,  is  that  of  a  djin  or  evil  spirit,  and  this  idea 
•now  prevented  the  man  from  replying  on  the  instant.  At  last, 
however,  he  recovered  his  voice,  and  with  much  trepidation 
proceeded  to  inform  the  renegade  that  kaid  Hammed  had 
placed  him  the  night  before,  as  a  spy,  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Abdallah's  house.  That  he  had  been  directed  to  watch  for 
two  Christian  slaves,  who,  it  was  suspected,  were  concealed 
in  the  house  of  the  kaid  of  the  gates ;  that  while  at  his  post 
he  had  seen  a  party  composed  of  three  men  and  two  women 
come  out  of  the  kaid's  house ;  and  that  he  had  traced  them 
to  a  house  near  the  Bab  el  Gharb. 

"  But  how  know  you  that  they  were  Christians  ?"  demanded 
Don  Diego,  in  a  voice  husky  with  excitement. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  313 

"  I  know  by  their  gait  and  their  figures.  They  brushed  my 
face  as  I  lay  in  the  street ;  one  of  them  had  a  lighter  foot  than 
the  other,  but  neither  of  them  had  the  heavy  tread  of  our 
Moorish  women.  I  doubt  not  that  the  tallest  one,  had  I  been 
asleep,  could  have  tripped  along  upon  my  body,  from  my 
heels  to  my  head,  without  waking  me." 

"  And  the  three  men  T'  demanded  Orsolo. 

"  One  of  them  remained  with  the  women — the  others  came 
out  and  returned  to  the  house  of  the  kaid." 

There  was  not  a  doubt  in  Don  Diego's  mind  that  the  wo 
men  were  the  sisters,  and  he  resolved  that  he  would  enter  the 
house  by  force  if  necessary,  and  seize  them  in  virtue  of  his  office, 
as  kaid  of  the  Christians.  He  was  for  setting  out  instantly, 
but  just  at  that  moment  there  came  from  the  outer  court  a 
hum  of  voices,  and  an  odor  of  bubbling  flesh-pots,  which  con 
vinced  him  that  he  should  be  obliged  to  wait  until  the  long 
day's  fast  had  been  properly  broken  by  the  evening's  feast. 

"  You  can  point  out  this  house  f  he  demanded. 

"  As  easily  as  point  out  the  Bab  el  Gharb  itself." 

"  Why    is   it,  then,  that   you   failed    to    do    so   to    Kaid 

Hammed  1" 

';  Because  last  night  I  could  not  find  him,  and  to-day  he  has 
been  absent  on  his  journey  to  Mecca.  He  is  kaid  of  the  slaves 
no  longer,  and  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  bring  my  information 
to  my  lord.  Kaid  Abdallah  would,  I  doubt  not,  still  give  me 
the  promised  reward,  but " 

"  You  shall  lose  nothing,"  said  Don  Diego,  cutting  short 
the  fellow's  protestations.  "If  your  information  prove  true, 
trust  me  you  could  not  have  brought  it  to  a  better  market. 

14 


314  THE     BERBER. 

Go,  tell  Raid  Boufra  to  have  a  dozen  men  ready  to  accom 
pany  us  as  soon  as  their  stomachs  are  filled." 

The  black  departed  to  give  the  order  to  the  lieutenant  of 
the  guard,  and  Orsolo  resumed  his  walk  and  his  self-commun- 
ings,  but  in  a  somewhat  different  spirit  from  that  which  actua 
ted  him  before  the  entrance  of  the  Moor.  The  tinge  of  remorse 
had  disappeared :  despair  was  for  the  time  banished :  the  close 
contact  of  the  actual  and  the  present  deadened  the  sense  of  the 
possible  and  the  future :  nothing  remained  but  stern  resolve, 
and  deep,  desperate,  deadly  revenge — a  revenge  which  was  to 
include,  not  only  Isabel,  and  her  former  admirer  Edward,  but 
also  her  sister,  the  spirited  Juanita.  Her  image  rose  to  the 
mind  of  the  renegade,  and  with  it  an  emotion  of  astonishment 
that  he  could  so  hate  her — but  hate  her  he  did,  although  he 
did  not  like  to  admit,  even  to  himself,  that  it  was  in  return  for 
the  contempt  with  which  he  felt  that  the  young  girl  had 
ever  beheld  him. 

The  Moor  gave  the  don's  order  to  Kaid  Boufra ;  and  the  first 
dozen  men  who  had  begun  to  give  the  usual  disgusting  signs 
of  repletion  (characterizing  a  meal  in  Morocco  even  among  the 
highest  and  most  polished  dignitaries  of  the  land)  were  assem 
bled  in  readiness  to  follow  the  chief.  And  here  it  may  be 
permitted  to  remark,  upon  what  will  strike  readers,  forming 
their  ideas  of  military  etiquette  and  ceremony  from  Christian 
troops — the  absence  of  any  thing  like  regular  discipline  or  de 
ference.  In  a  Moorish  corps,  where  the  soldier  of  to-day  may 
be  the  commander-in-chief  of  *to-morrow,  there  is  a  degree  of  so 
cial  equality  which  would  be  in  Christian  ranks  subversive  of  all 
authority  :  an  officer  may  have  power  to  order,  and  to  enforce 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  315 

his  orders,  but  that  is  no  reason  why  he  should  refuse  to  dip 
his  hand  into  the  same  pot  with  the  meanest  of  his  command. 
As  soon  as  the  men  were  ready  the  impatient  renegade 
placed  himself  at  their  head,  and.guided  by  the  black,  set  out 
in  the  direction  of  the  Bab  el  Gharb.  We  will  leave  him  to 
pursue  his  course,  while  we  return  for  a  moment  to  the  rais. 
As  the  shades  of  night  darkened  around  the  impatient  ro 
ver  his  anxiety  increased.  The  conviction  grew  stronger  and 
stronger,  that  the  renegade  would  not  wait  until  midnight  to 
carry  his  designs  into  execution.  This  feeling  at  length  became 
so  powerful  that  he  could  no  longer  rest  in  the  house.  Sum 
moning  Selira,  he  directed  him  to  go  to  the  fondac,  where 
the  crew  of  the  corsair  were  lodged,  and  having  collected  half 
a  dozen  of  the  most  trusty  men,  to  follow  him  as  quietly  as 
possible  to  the  Bab  el  Gharb. 

The  rais  rapidly  pursued  his  course  to  the  point  he  had  in 
dicated  to  his  followers.  As  he  passed  Abdullah's  door  he 
paused,  half  inclined  to  stop  and  speak  to  the  kaid,  but  it 
wanted  yel  an  hour  to  the  appointed  time,  and  Hassan  was 
somewhat  ashamed  of  the  feelings  which  had  prompted  him  to 
sally  forth  in  despite  of  his  friend's  injunction  to  remain  quiet 
until  the  hour  for  action. 

The  rais  passed  on,  and  entered  the  street  where  stood  the 
house  to  which  the  sisters  had  been  consigned.  The  street  was 
narrow,  not  more  than  ten  feet  in  width ;  short,  and  closed 
at  one  end.  As  he  came  in  sight  of  the  house  where  his  bro 
ther  and  the  sisters  were  concealed,  he  was  startled  by  the  ap 
pearance  of  a  party  of  men  gathered  around  the  door.  He 
sprang  forward  without  an  instant's  hesitation,  but  just  as  he 


316  THE     BERBER. 

reached  the  spot  the  door  was  forced  in,  apparently  without 
much  effort,  and  the  leaders  of  the  party  rushed  into  the  skeffa 
leading  into  the  court.  Dashing  aside  with  vigorous  arm 
those  in  the  rear,  Hassan  also  sprang  into  the  narrow  vesti 
bule.  Don  Diego  was  on  the  threshhold  of  the  court,  when  he 
was  suddenly  seized  with  a  grasp  of  iron,  and  thrown  back  in 
to  the  arms  of  some  of  his  men,  while  the  excited  rais,  passing 
him  with  a  bound,  wheeled,  and  drawing  his  cimeter,  confront 
ed  the  astonished  renegade.  The  flash  of  his  sabre,  as  it 
swung  in  the  faint  light  of  the  court,  was  sufficient  to  reveal 
the  nature  of  the  obstacle  barring  their  further  passage ;  but 
there  was  not  light  enough  to  exhibit  the  features  of  the  intru 
der  who  had  thus  violently  thrust  himself  into,  and  ahead  of, 
their  party. 

There  was  a  pause  for  a  moment,  when  suddenly  a  couple 
of  torches,  with  which  some  of  the  guard  had  been  provided, 
flared  up  in  the  vestibule,  and  threw  their  light  into  the  court. 

The  renegade  thought  that  he  saw  the  figure  of  his  hated 
rival,  Edward  Carlyle,  before  him.  He  was  no  coward  when 
his  blood  was  up,  and  not  an  unskilful  swordsman ;  and 
springing  forward  with  a  shout  of  rage,  he  made  a  sudden 
and  desperate  lunge  at  the  breast  of  his  adversary.  The 
thrust  was  skilfully  parried,  and  instantly  returned ;  a  few 
passes  were  rapidly  interchanged,  when  the  don  threw  up  his 
arms  and  staggered  backward,  with  the  blood  spouting  from 
a  wound  in  his  breast. 

The  whole  had  passed  so  rapidly,  that  the  soldiers  of  the 
guard  had  no  time  to  interfere.  Not  a  word  was  spoken, 
and  for  a  moment  they  remained  behind  their  leader,  as  if 
paralyzed  by  the  sudden  flash  and  clash  of  steel. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  317 

Don  Diego,  although  desperately  wounded,  was  determined 
not  to  be  baulked  of  his  revenge.  "Seize  him!  Cut  him 
down  !  A  hundred  ducats  if  you  kill  him  on  the  spot !" 

Luckily,  the  voice  of  the  renegade  was  beginning  to  fail 
him,  and  besides,  he  spoke  in  Spanish,  and  his  orders  were  un 
derstood  but  by  a  few. 

"  Come  on !"  shouted  the  rais,  in  Arabic ;  "  all   of  you ! 

Come  on  :  I  defy  you  !     Let  me  see  the  first aye,  the  first 

dozen   of  ye that   dares    to   cross   the   sword   of  Hassan 

Herach '." 

At  the  mention  of  the  renowned  name  of  the  rover,  there 
was  a  decided  movement  among  the  group  of  swarthy -faced 
guards  crowding  the  skeffa,  indicating  a  disposition  to  draw 
back  rather  than  to  advance. 

"  Shoot  him  down  I'1'  exclaimed  the  renegade.     "  He  is  nc 

Moor — he  is  a  Kaffir a  dog  of  an  Englishman !     A  thou 

sand  ducats  to  whoever  will  kill  the  unbeliever !" 

Overcome  with  passion  and  loss  of  blood,  the  don  sank 
speechless  from  the  arms  of  the  black  to  the  ground.  Hi& 
offer  of  a  thousand  ducats,  however,  made  some  little  stii 
among  the  guards,  and  two  or  three  in  the  back  ground  level 
ed  their  long  guns  over  the  heads  of  those  in  front.  Theii 
movements  were  cut  short  by  a  commotion  at  the  street 
door,  and  by  the  appearance  of  a  crowd  of  new  comers  in  tha 
vestibule. 

The  quick  eye  of  the  rais  recognized  the  familiar  faces  of 
his  crew  as  they  crowded  into  the  skeffa.  a?id  stretched  their 
necks  to  overlook  the  heads  of  the  guards. 

"  Ha  !  welcome,  my  boys  !     You  aie  in  tine !"  exclaimed 


318  THE     BERBER. 

the  rais,  "  Close  up  !  close  up  !  Drive  the  fellows  in  !  Se 
cure  the  door  there  !  Let  not  one  escape !  And  now,  dogs  I 
who  have  howled  in  the  leash  of  this  renegade,"  continued 
Hassan,  addressing  the  guards,  "  down  with  your  arms." 

The  frightened  soldiers  obeyed,  and  in  obedience  to  a  ges 
ture  of  the  rais  delivered  their  arms,  even  to  their  knives  and 
daggers,  into  the  hands  of  Selim,  and  then  quietly  squatted 
together  in  one  corner  of  the  court. 

The  rais  had  now  leisure  to  look  around,  and  was  at  once 
struck  with  the  fact  that  not  a  sign  could  be  perceived  of  either 
of  the  three  inhabitants  of  the  house.  The  rooms  were  all 
open  and  empty.  The  gallery  was  vacant — the  terrace  de 
serted. 

Satisfying  himself  that  the  maidens  were  gone,  he  returned 
to  the  court,  where  Don  Diego  was  still  lying  insensible.  The 
rais  directed  some  water  to  be  sprinkled  on  the  face  of  the 
renegade,  and  a  draught  to  be  applied  to  his  lips.  The  wound 
ed  man  drank  and  consciousness  returned.  He  opened  his 
eyes,  but  the  clear  flash  of  passion  had  passed  from  them,  and 
in  its  place  were  the  first  shadings  of  the  haze  that  curtains  to 
the  retreating  soul  the  windows  through  which  it  has  been 
wont  to  look  upon  the  world. 

The  renegade  listened  with  interest  to  the  intimation  that 
the  sisters  were  not  to  be  found  ;  and  his  earnest  denial  of  any 
knowledge  of  their  fate  carried  a  conviction  of  its  truth  at  once 
to  the  mind  of  the  rais. 

The  impassioned  rover  was  puzzled.  A  thousand  varying 
apprehensions  of  evil  rushed  upon  his  mind,  while  there  was 
but  one  hope,  and  that  was  that  his  brother  had  by  some 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  319 

means  secured  an  intimation  of  the  kaid's  intended  visit,  and 
that  he  and  the  maidens  had  sought  a  refuge  in  the  house  of 
the  kaid  of  the  gates. 

Hassan,  anxious  to  ascertain  at  once  whether  this  hope  was 
well  or  ill-founded,  made  a  movement  for  the  street,  but  his 
step  was  arrested  by  a  gesture  and  an  imploring  look  from  the 
renegade.  Hassan  returned,  and  again  knelt  by  the  side  of  the 
wounded  man,  who,  after  a  slight  shudder  and  a  pause,  during 
which  he  seemed  to  be  mastering  some  internal  emotion, 
signed  to  the  black  to  draw  aside. 

"  You  are  a  Christian,  although  not  of  my  church,"  whis 
pered  the  don. 

"  You  mistake  me,"  replied  Hassan.  "  You  are  thinking 
of  Edward  Carlyle.  He  resembles  me,  but  I  am  not  he. 
Me  you  have  never  seen  before." 

"You  mock  me,"  exclaimed  the  don.  But  there  was 
something  so  calm  and  truthful  in  the  young  man's  look,  that 
Don  Diego  could  not  but  be  convinced — an  expression  of  in 
tense  anguish  passed  over  his  features. 

"  Oh  !  if  you  are  not  he — the  man  I  have  most  hated,"  said 
Orsolo,  in  a  tone  of  agonized  inquiry,  "  then  you  are — 
you  must  be  a  Moor !" 

"  I  have  been  bred  a  Moor  ;  but  still  I  am  no  blind  bigot  of 
El  Islam.  If  you  have  any  thing  to  say  you  can  speak  to  me 
as  if  I  were  a  Christian." 

"  I  would  see  one  of  the  fathers  of  the  Spanish  convent," 
whispered  the  dying  man. 

Hassan    started  and  hesitated,  "'twill  be  dangerous  for 


320  THE     BERBER. 

both,"  he  said.  "  Know  you  not  the  jealousy  of  the  Moors, 
and  the  terrible  vengeance  they  take  upon  a  renegade  who 
recants  his  proi'ession  of  Mohammedanism'?" 

"  I  know — I  know,"  impatiently  exclaimed  the  don,  "  but 
I  am  dying  j  I  feel  that  1  am  dying — and  by  your  hand  !  You 
will  not  refuse  to  aid  me  1  1  must  see  a  priest — quick,  or  it 
will  be  too  late." 

The  mental  agony  of  the  wounded  man  was  expressed  in 
every  feature.  Hassan  hastened  to  assure  him  that  he  would 
do  all  in  his  power  to  secure  him  what  he  desired,  but  re 
minded  him  that  jealous  eyes  were  upon  him,  and  that  he 
must  give  no  signs  of  a  wish  to  recant. 

"  It  is  rather  a  bad  wound,"  he  exclaimed  in  Arabic,  and 
in  a  loud  tone,  so  that  all  could  hear ;  I  will  go  and  find  one 
of  the  Christian  doctors  of  the  Spanish  hospitium — perhaps  he 
can  do  something  for  it." 

Before  setting  out  he  directed  the  wounded  man  to  be 
carried  into  a  room  of  the  inner  court,  and  placed  upon  the  couch 
of  the  sisters.  The  Moorish  guard  were  shut  up  in  one  of  the 
rooms  of  the  outer  court,  the  door  firmly  secured,  and  a  sentry 
seated  cross  legged  in  front  of  it ;  and  the  crew  of  the  corsair 
brought  within  the  court,  so  as  not  to  attract  attention  from 
the  street. 

It  wanted  but  half  an  hour  to  his  appointment  with  Abdal- 
lah,  and  besides,  the  anxiety  of  Hassan  to  find  some  clue  to  the 
mysterious  disappearance  of  the  sisters  increased  each  mo 
ment,  as  the  excitement  of  the  recent  affray  died  away.  But 
the  agonized  and  imploring  look  of  the  renegade  would  not 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO  32 J 

permit  him  to  hesitate  as  to  his  course.  WitK  n  rapid  step  he 
traversed  the  irregular  streets,  and  knocked  at  the  heavily  bar 
red  and  bolted  door  of  the  Spanish  Convent.  It  took  him 
some  little  time  to  procure  admission,  and  to  make  the  object 
of  his  visit  known. 

The  service  invoked  was  one  of  great  danger,  the  Moors 
being  exceedingly  jealous  of  any  communication  between  the 
fathers  and  any  of  their  renegades ;  but  the  worthy  brotherhood 
did  not  hesitate,  and  one  of  their  number  was  at  once  deputed 
to  accompany  the  rais.  Brother  Leva  was  the  youngest  and 
most  active  of  the  small  band  of  the  hospitium ;  but  although 
his  coarse  tunic  of  grey  cloth  was  tucked  up  and  girded  with  a 
stout  hempen  cord,  and  a  long  staff  assisted  his  steps,  he  had 
great  difficulty  in  keeping  pace  with  the  rapid  stride  of  his 
impatient  conductor. 

Hassan  led  the  priest  into  the  further  court,  and  thence 
into  the  room  where  the  wounded  man  lay.  A  few  moments' 
scrutiny  satisfied  the  priest  that  the  wound  was  necessarily 
mortal.  He  shook  his  head  despondingly.  Don  Diego  raised 
his  eyes  to  the  face  of  the  rais  with  an  imploring  look,  which 
the  latter  readily  interpreted  into  a  request  to  be  left  alone 
with  the  priest.  Hassan  withdrew  and  closed  the  door,  and 
calling  his  second  in  command,  charged  him  to  permit  no 
man  to  enter  the  inner  court ;  to  give  free  egress  to  the  priest 
when  he  should  have  finished  dressing  the  wound,  and  to  keep 
the  guard  closely  confined  until  further  orders.  The  rais 
knew-  his  men,  and  that  however  much  they  might  suspect 
that  the  medication  of  the  monk  was  being  addressed  rather  to 


322  THE     BERBER. 

the  spiritual  than  the  bodily  wounds  of  the  renegade,  they 
would  not  dare  to  disobey  his  orders.  Any  other  than  the 
crew  of  the  corsair  would  have  been  more  difficult  to  manage, 
and  priest  and  penitent  would  alike  have  risked  the  cross  or 
the  stake.  The  time  appointed  by  Abdallah  had  arrived,  and 
as  he  could  do  nothing  further  for  the  wounded  man,  the  rais, 
taking  Selim  with  him,  set  out  for  the  house  of  the  kaid 
of  the  gates. 

It  was  some  half  hour  after  his  departure  that  the  monk 
issued  from  the  room  into  the  inner  court,  and  with  stealthy 
step  and  furtive  glance,  advanced  to  the  arched  passage-way, 
where  were  seated  several  of  the  crew  of  the  corsair.  One  of 
them  touched  his  skirts. 

"  How  is  kaid  Suleiman  ?"  demanded  the  sailor ;  "  can 
you  heal  his  wound  1" 

"  The  kaid's  wound  is  beyond  the  skill  of  man,"  replied 
the  monk.  "  He  has  finished  his  course." 

"  Dead  !"  exclaimed  the  man.  "  But  what  else  could  you 
expect  1  Our  rais'  arm  is  not  a  woman's,  and  he  is  a  fool 
who  thinks  to  cross  swords  with  him  and  live.  The  kaid  died 
a  true  believer  7" 

"A  true  believer;"  and  fearful  of  being  questioned  far 
ther,  the  monk  pulled  his  cowl  over  his  face  and  shuffled  in  all 
haste  across  the  court  into  the  street. 

As  he  pursued  his  way  to  the  convent  the  worthy  priest 
muttered  a  prayer  for  the  repose  of  his  penitent's  soul,  and 
blessed  the  mercy  of  God  that  had  put  it  in  his  power  to  as 
sure  the  repentant  apostate  of  forgiveness  in  Heaven. 

Masses  were  chaunted  by  the   brotherhood   in  the  little 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  323 

chapel  of  the  hospitium  for  the  same  purpose ;  but  Christian 
burial  was  denied,  the  monks  not  daring  to  propose  that  the 
body  should  be  laid  in  the  ground  consecrated  to  the  burial 
of  Christian  slaves. 


324  THE     BERBER. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 


SLOWLY  the  Berber  sauntered  through  the  streets,  appa 
rently  without  an  object,  and  with  the  hood  of  his  djellabeah 
irawn  so  far  over  his  face  as  to  conceal  the  keen  glances  with 
which  he  noted  the  passers  by.  Two  or  three  times  he  stop 
ped,  and,  exchanging  a  word  or  two  with  men  who,  like  him- 
eelf,  had  their  features  partially  concealed  by  their  hoods,  or 
by  the  fluttering  ends  of  their  ragged  turbans,  again  moved 
on  slowly  and  listlessly,  as  before.  In  no  instance  did  any  of 
these  persons  address  him  first ;  but  it  was  noticeable  that  the 
instant  he  spoke  they  were  all  attention,  and  that  a  certain 
degree  of  deference  never  failed  to  mingle  itself  with  an  air 
of  assumed  indifference.  It  was  evident  that  the  Berber  had 
numerous  emissaries  in  the  city,  and  even  within  the  precincts 
of  the  palace — a  precaution  rendered  necessary  by  his  own  po 
sition  and  the  faithlessness  of  the  enemy  with  whom  he  had  to 
deal.  Possessing  a  strong  hold  that  was  perfectly  impregna 
ble,  there  was,  nevertheless,  a  portion  of  his  territories  that 
could  be  defended  with  difficulty  against  a  large  force,  and  it 
was  essential  to  be  apprized  in  time  of  any  movements  of  the 
soltan's  court  and  camp,  that  his  people  might  be  able  to 
gather  their  flocks  and  herds,  and  retreat  to  a  place  of  safety. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  325 

In  this  manner  the  rapacity  of  Muley  Ismael  had  been  several 
times  foiled.  A  small  body  of  troops  could  not  make  an  at 
tack  upon  the  wary  and  warlike  Beni  Mozarg  with  any  hope 
of  success,  and  each  time  that  a  larger  force  had  been  put  in 
motion,  although  every  effort  had  been  made  to  conceal  its 
destination,  and  to  allay  the  suspicions  of  the  Berber  chief  by 
assurances  of  the  most  profound  esteem  and  friendship,  the 
soltan  had  found  his  treachery  had  by  some  means  got  wind, 
and  that  his  prey  had  escaped.  If  an  organized  system  of  es 
pionage  was  necessary  to  the  safety  of  his  tribe,  it  was  still 
more  so  to  the  success  of  his  grand  scheme  for  the  union  of 
all  of  the  tribes  of  the  Atlas,  and  the  final  overthrow  of 
Moorish  rule  in  Morocco;  and  CasbinSubah  had  succeeded  in 
making  friends  at  court,  and  in  so  placing  his  emissaries,  that 
not  a  plot,  intrigue,  or  movement  of  any  importance  could 
escape  him. 

Upon  the  present  occasion  nothing  of  any  consequence 
seemed  to  be  communicated  to  him  by  the  persons  to  whom 
he  spoke,  and  he  sauntered  on  until  he  came  to  the  shop  of  a 
baker.  The  entrance  was  open,  and  around  it.  within  and 
without,  were  squatted  a  number  of  female  slaves,  and  a  dozen 
or  two  of  ragged  children.  The  baker,  a  fat  fellow  with  bare 
legs  and  arms,  and  a  little  red  skull-cap  on  his  head,  was 
seated  in  front  of  his  oven,  with  his  feet  in  a  shallow  pit,  in 
dustriously  putting  in  and  taking  out  the  loaves  of  wheaten 
bread  which  had  been  brought  by  the  clamorous  group  around 
the  door. 

"  My  bread  !  my  bread  !"  shouted  one.  "  How  long  will 
you  keep  me  here,  oh,  thou  master  of  a.  cold  oy en !' 


326  THE     BERBEF. 

"  My  bread  !  my  bread  !"  cried  another.  "  Do  you  wish 
that  my  mistress  should  starve  1  See,  the  sun  has  just  gone 
to  bed,  or  I  would  take  the  bread  away,  and  bake  it  on  warm 
stone,  sooner " 

"  My  bread  !  my  bread !"  chorused  a  number  of  voices. 
"  Haste  there,  oh,  thou  son  of  the  hills,  where  the  bakers  all 
heat  their  ovens  with  snow.  Ha  !  ha  !  the  Berber  thinks  one 
donkey  load  of  brushwood  enough  for  all  the  ovens  in  Mequi- 
nez !  May  the  place  that  you  will  go  to,  when  you  die,  be  no 
hotter  than  your  oven — and  that  is  a  better  fate  than  you  de 
serve.  Hark ! El-assar  will  be  sounded  before  this  hater 

of  heat — this  fire  despiser — gives  us  our  bread  !" 

A  loud  clapping  of  hands,  with  peals  of  laughter  and  a 
clucking  sound  of  the  tongue,  accompanied  each  abusive  sally. 
The  badgered  baker  retorted  in  kind.  Glowing  with  heat  and 
rage,  he  tossed  the  steaming  loaves  to  their  noisy  owners  with 
many  a  loud-voiced  objurgation. 

"  Sere  !  sere  /"  he  shouted  to  each  in  turn.  "  Away  with 
you  !  In  the  name  of  Sheitan  and  all  his  imps,  away  with 
you  !  And  may  the  bread  turn  in  your  stomachs  to  red 
hot  bricks !" 

The  cursings  of  the  baker  and  the  chatterings  of  the  slaves 
were  hushed  by  the  sudden  appearance  of  the  chieftain  of  the 
Beni  Mozarg  in  the  doorway.  The  young  man  entered,  and 
making  a  slight  sign  to  the  baker,  quietly  took  a  seat  in  one 
corner  of  the  low,  unpaved,  dingy  apartment. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  baker  had  distributed  tlie  contents  of 
his  oven  to  his  clamorous  customers,  when  looking  carefully 
out,  to  see  that  no  one  remained  within  hearing,  he  advanced 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  327 

to  the  Berber  and  threw  himself  at  his  feet.  The  chieftain 
raised  himself  up,  and  extended  his  hand  to  the  kneeling 
baker. 

"  Enough,  Ishmael,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  need  no  assurances 
of  your  loyalty.  The  business  prospers,  does  it  not  V 

"  With  the  blessing  of  God  and  the  favor  of  my  lord,  it 
does.  I  am  picking  up  a  few  fluces,  but  I  long  for  the  day 
when  I  shall  go  back  to  the  hills." 

"Be  in  no  hurry,  Ishmael;  gather  wealth,  for  you  know 
what  the  Moors  say,  '  wealth  is  worth  ;'  besides,  I  have  need 
of  your  services  here.  But,  Ishmael,  to  the  business  that 
brings  me  to  speak  with  you.  The  troops  are  to  have  a  re 
view  and  '  powder  burning '  to-morrow  ?" 

"  It  has  been  so  ordered  by  the  soltan,  I  hear." 

"  Upon  the  plain  of  Sakel  ?" 

"  That  is  the  order.  I  heard  of  it  almost  as  soon  as  it  was 
issued,  from  a  kaid  of  blacks/' 

"  And  Sakel,"  continued  the  Berber,  "is  some  distance  from 
the  city,  and  within  an  hour's  sharp  ride  of  the  great  ravine." 

"  True,  but  it  is  very  level  ground,  and  the  troops  will 
reach  it  before  the  second  morning  prayer." 

"  Ishmael,  I  misdoubt  this  lab  el  barode.  Under  cover  of 
'  powder  playing '  an  expedition  to  the  hills  may  be  intended. 
You  must  ascertain  whether " 

"  My  lord  need  give  himself  no  uneasiness.  There  is  not 
bread  enough  in  the  camp  for  two  days.  Were  there  any  de 
sign  against  our  people,  every  baker  in  the  city  would  have 
received  orders  to  bake  a  supply  of  bread  for  the  troops.  My 
lord  may  trust  in  me.  I  know  that  there  is  nothing  to  fear 


328  T  H  E      BERBER. 

in  the  movement  to-morrow ;  but,  to  make  sure,  I  will  go  to 
all  the  bakers  in  the  camp.  Where  shall  I  meet  my  lord  to 
night  f ' 

"  At  the  north  gate.  I  shall  pass  through  it  with  a  partyj 
but  I  care  not  to  be  recognized.  If  you  find  that  all  is  right, 
you  will  give  the  usual  blessing  on  travellers;  but  if  there 
is  any  ground  for  suspicion,  you  will  join  yourself  to  my  party, 
and  pass  out  with  us.  You  can  return  in  the  morning,  when 
the  gates  are  opened  for  the  day." 

With  this  understanding,  the  Berber,  after  the  usual  com 
pliments,  took  his  leave  of  the  baker,  and  passed  into  the 
street.  The  twilight  wras  fading,  and  by  the  time  that  he  had 
reached  the  house  where  were  secreted  the  sisters,  it  was  quite 
dark.  He  hesitated  for  a  moment,  and  then,  as  if  suddenly 
resolved,  tapped  in  a  peculiar  manner  upon  the  door. 

It  was  immediately  opened  by  Edward,  who  started  and 
would  have  opposed  his  entrance,  but  with  a  quiet  "  buenos 
noces  senor  "  Casbin  slipped  by  him  and  entered  the  court. 
By  the  time  that  Edward  could  secure  the  door  and  follow,  he 
found  the  maidens  in  the  act  of  welcoming  the  intruder  as  an 
old  friend — a  welcome  in  which  he  was  fain  to  join,  when  he 
found  that  there  stood  before  him  the  famous  Berber  chief. 

The  proposed  plan  of  escape  was  explained  by  the  young 
chieftain  in  a  few  words,  and,  as  may  be  supposed,  met  with  the 
ready  approval  of  the  maidens.  The  elevation  of  their  apostate 
cousin  to  the  dignity  of  kaid  struck  them  with  dismay,  and  they 
felt  that  the  only  chance  of  escape  from  his  clutches  would  be 
in  instant  flight  from  the  city.  Without  hesitation  they  ex 
pressed  their  willingness  to  set  out  at  any  moment;  a  willing- 


A     TALE    OF    MOROCCO.  329 

ness  in  which  they  were  joined  by  Edward,  when  he  found,  by 
a  few  casual  questions,  that  Abdallah  and  his  daughter  were 
to  be  of  the  party. 

There  was  something  more  than  usually  grave  in  the  man 
ner  of  the  Berber.  The  boyish  tone  and  the  mirthful  and  mis 
chievous  sparkle  of  his  eye  were  gone,  or  rather  seemed  to 
be  subdued  by  an  expression  of  thought  and  care.  An  air  al 
most  of  sadness  passed  occasionally  across  his  youthful 
features. 

Juanita  marked  the  change.  Accustomed  to  obey  each 
impulse  of  the  moment,  the  young  girl  started  forward  and 
placed  her  hand  upon  the  Berber's  arm. 

"  There  is  peril  in  the  path  you  propose  that  we  should  fol 
low,"  she  said,  looking  inquiringly  into  his  face. 

"  Not  so,"  said  the  Berber.  "  Nothing  to  excite  your  fears." 

"  Nay,"  interposed  Juanita,  "  let  us  know  the  worst.  No 
danger  can  equal  that  which  we  fly  from." 

"As  I  live,  I  know  of  no  danger  beyond  the  city  walls  which, 
with  proper  prudence  and  care,  we  cannot  avoid.  But,  why 
do  you  ask  so  earnestly  ?" 

"  Because,  senor,"  replied  Juanita  hesitatingly,  "  because 
your  manner  is  so  changed.  You  look  so  serious,  so " 

The  Berber  laughed  gaily,  and  taking  Juanita's  hand,  led 
her  deliberately  away,  and  beneath  the  arches  of  the  gallery 
into  the  inner  court. 

"  There  is  danger,  senorita,  great  danger,  but  it  threatens 
not  you 1  must  meet  it  and  brave  it." 

"  What  is  it  1     Where  is  it  T  demanded  Juanita. 

"  Here,  senorita.     It  lies  in  the  sparkle  of  those  eyes — in 


330  THE     BERBER. 

the  breath  of  those  lips — in  the  glow  of  that  cheek — in  the  wave 
of  those  ringlets." 

The  young  man,  as  he  spoke,  looked  at  the  maiden  with  a 
glance  so  impassioned,  that  her  eyes  fell,  and  the  red  blood 
mantled  from  bust  to  brow. 

"  So,  seiiorita,"  exclaimed  the  Berber  gaily,  after  a  pause, 
"  you  think  my  manner  changed.  Indeed,  you  are  observant. 
But  come,  tell  me  which  you  like  best — the  mirthful  or  the 
grave — the  boy  or  the  man  ?" 

"  As  a  brother,"  replied  Juanita,  looking  up  artlessly,  "  I 
think  I  should  like  the  boy  best." 

"  But  as  a  lover,  seiiorita "?" 

"  Oh,  in  a  lover,  I  am  not  sure  that  I  should  like  either." 

"  But  suppose  you  were  compelled  to  choose  ?" 

"  Well  then,  as  a  lover,  I  should  prefer  a  proper  proportion 
of  the  serious  and  the  reserved." 

Juanita  again  laid  her  hand  on  the  young  man's  arm,  and 
looked  up  in  his  face. 

"But  indeed,  senor,  you  are  changed, — something  troubles 
you — tell  me  what  it  is — have  you  enemies  ]" 

"Enemies!"  interposed  the  Berber,  "I  wish  it  were  with 
my  enemies  alone  that  I  had  to  contend.  The  contest  would 
be  one  of  pure  unmixed  pleasure.  But  to  struggle  with  the 
prejudices  and  passions  of  friends — to  find  your  best  laid 
schemes  for  ever  thwarted  by  the  baser  nature  of  the  tools 
with  which  you-  have  to  work — to  be  continually  collecting  and 
binding  the  rich  elements  of  a  great  empire,  only  to  see  them 
continually  scattered  and  destroyed, — that,  girl,  is  enough  to 
weigh  with  thought  and  care  the  most  gay  and  buoyant  spirit." 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  331 

"  But  not  to  make  a  great  spirit  despair,"  exclaimed  the 
maiden,  drawing  up  her  slight  figure ;  "  No,  not  even  to  despond 
for  a  moment.  Victory,  with  the  means  of  winning  it  in  our 
hands,  is  easy ;  but  to  create  the  means  with  which  we  win  it, 
is  glorious.  Oh,  sefior,  I  have  thought  of  what  you  told  me 
of  your  dream  of  empire.  Believe  me,  I  sympathize  with  you  in 
your  desire  to  drive  the  Paynim  from  the  land.  'Twill  be  a  glo 
rious  struggle.  But  ah  !  a  struggle  nobler — more  glorious  still, 
is  that  to  nationalize  your  tribes,  to  subdue  their  passions,  heal 
their  hereditary  feuds,  and  set  them  in  the  path  of  civilization." 

Juanita's  voice  'began  to  rise  and  her  eye  to  flash,  when 
suddenly  she  caught  the  intense  look  of  admiration  that 
beamed  from  the  Berber's  face.  The  young  girl  paused. 

"  By  heaven,  senorita,  you  are — you  must  be — you  shall 

be "  The  young  man  paused,  evidently  restraining  himself 

with  an  effort.  "  My  inspiration  !  my  divinity  !  I  will  em 
broider  your  name  on  my  banners.  I  will " 

The  protestations  of  the  Berber  were  cut  short  by  a  noise 
at  the  door,  and  an  exclamation  from  Isabel ;  a  slight  crash,  and 
the  rush  of  a  dozen  men  into  the  vestibule. 

Juanita  flew  back  to  the  outer  court,  and  seizing  her  sis 
ter  by  her  robe,  pulled  the  terrified  Isabel  towards  the  arches 
of  the  gallery,  but  before  they  could  reach  the  passage  a 
dozen  men  had  forced  their  way,  in  despite  of  the  opposition  of 
Edward,  and  speading  along  the  side  of  the  court,  intercepted 
their  retreat. 

The  Berber  had  followed  the  young  girl  with  a  rapid  step, 
but  on  reaching  the  outer  court,  and  seeing  the  house  so  com 
pletely  in  the  possession  of  the  intruders,  he  paused  for  a  mo- 


332  THE     BERBER. 

ment  in  doubt.  Edward  was  still  boldly  confronting  the 
soldiers,  and  offering  such  opposition  as  an  unarmed  man  could 
make  to  their  further  progress.  Already  a  dozen  muskets  were 
presented  at  his  breast,  when  the  Berber  interfered.  He  saw 
that  all  resistance  was  useless,  and  that  Edward  was  simply 
arousing  the  brutality  of  the  guards  by  his  exclamations  and 
demands,  made  in  a  language  they  did  not  understand.  Put 
ting  his  hand  upon  the  young  man's  shoulder,  the  Berber  pull 
ed  him  back,  and  enjoining  silence,  advanced  himself  and  con 
fronted  the  soldiers. 

The  young  chieftain's  mien  was  composed,  but  his  mind 
was  agitated  with  feelings  of  intense  anxiety.  For  himself 
he  feared  nothing;  he  knew  his  ability  to  force  his  way  out. 
through  the  door,  unarmed  as  he  was,  by  a  sudden  exertion  of 
his  extraordinary  strength  and  agility,  or  to  escape  by  the 
terrace  over  the  house  tops.  But  how  was  he  to  save  the  sis 
ters  ?  As  his  mind  rapidly  ran  over  the  chances,  he  could  think 
of  nothing  better  than  to  fly  at  once  and  endeavor  to  raise 
men  enough  to  intercept  their  captors  in  the  streets,  or  to 
attack  the  quarter  of  the  Christian  slaves,  and  free  them  by 
force.  But  to  this  plan  there  were  numerous  objections  which 
presented  themselves  instantly  to  the  quick  mind  of  the  Ber 
ber,  and  the  idea  was  rejected  almost  as  soon  as  formed. 

A  feeling  of  desperation  began  to  steal  over  him,  as  the 
conviction  grew  that,  for  the  present,  he  was  powerless ;  still 
he  quietly  ran  his  eye  over  the  group  before  him,  in  search 
of  some  figure  that  he  might  identify  as  the  renegade  kaid  of 
the  slaves.  The  light  from  the  copper  lamps  at  the  angles  of 
the  court  was  none  of  the  brightest ;  but  still  it  was  sufficient 


A     TALE      OF     MOROCCO.  333 

to  reveal  the  fat  face  of  the  chief  of  the  hareem.  The  eye  of  the 
Berber  lighted  up  as  he  saw  him  waddle  in  from  the  skeffa,  and, 
puffing  and  blowing  with  the  unusual  exercise,  look  around 
with  an  air  of  authority. 

"  By  whose  warrant,"  demanded  the  Berber,  in  a  stern 
tone,  "  is  this  outrage  committed  ?  Whose  head  will  answer 
for  violating  the  house  of  a  true  believer  T' 

The  kaid  of  the  hareem  puffed  himself  up  with  a  long  wheezy 
inspiration,  and  replied,  "  I  enter  this  house  in  the  name  of  the 
soltan,  and  my  head  shall  answer  for  it." 

"  In  the  name  of  the  soltan  ?  In  the  name  of  that  contemp 
tible  renegade,  the  kaid  of  the  slaves,  you  should  say.  Think 
not  that  his  warrant  will  save  your  head.  Think  not  that 
Muley  Ismael,  to  whom  may  God  grant  long  life !  shall  never 
learn  this  prostitution  of  his  name." 

The  old  negro's  eyes  glowed  with  rage.  There  was  some 
thing  in  the  Berber's  speech  that  touched  his  dignity,  and  it 
was  some  little  time  before  he  could  recover  breath  enough 
to  reply. 

"  The  kaid  of  the  slaves,  ha  !  The  kaid  of  the  Christians, 
you  say  !  Why,  what  dog  are  you  that  dares  to  spit  on  our 
beard  ?  The  kaid  of  the  slaves  !  The  renegade  of  yesterday, 

ha ! " 

A  light  broke  in  upon  the  mind  of  the  Berber,  and  he 
hastened  to  apologise  for  a  supposition  so  injurious  to  the  dig 
nity  of  the  chief  of  the  hareem,  as  that  he  should  be  the  agent 
of  a  renegade.  The  old  negro,  naturally  as  good  natured  as 
he  was  fat  and  stupid,  was  easily  mollified,  and  led  on  by  the 
wily  questioning  of  the  young  chief,  acknowledged  that  it  was 


334  THE     BERBER. 

at  the  instigation  of  the  soltan  queen  that  he  had  been  sent 
to  seize  a  young  Christian  maiden.  "  Come,"  he  exclaimed 
to  his  men,  and  pointing  to  the  sisters,  "  here  is  what  we  have 
come  after.  As  to  these  two,"  pointing  to  the  Berber,  and  the 
young  Englishman,  "  we  have  nothing  to  do  with  them." 

The  maidens  shrunk  back  as  the  kaid  advanced  towards 
them,  when  the  Berber  again  interfered. 

"  You  say  that  your  orders  were  to  seize  a  Christian  mai 
den  1 here  are  two.  Beware  that  you  do  not  exceed  your 

orders." 

The  negro  paused.  The  objection  seemed  to  strike  him. 
He  gravely  stroked  his  white  beard,  and  rolled  his  eyes  up  in 
profound  meditation. 

The  mind  of  the  Berber  had  been  much  relieved  upon 
finding  that  it  was  not  the  renegade  with  whom  he  had  to 
deal.  He  knew  that  it  was  infinitely  preferable  for  the  sisters 
to  be  transferred  to  the  hareem  of  the  royal  palace,  than  to 
the  house  of  the  kaid  of  the  Christians  ;  but  as  he  looked  at 
the  stolid  countenance  of  the  puzzled  negro,  there  arose  in  his 
mind  a  faint  gleam  of  hope  that  he  could  save  one,  if  not  both, 
from  the  temporary  confinement  (for  he  vowed  that  it  should 
be  but  temporary)  of  the  palace. 

"  Will  it  not  be  best,"  said  the  Berber,  "  for  my  lord  the 
kaid  to  return  to  the  soltan  queen,  and  get  her  directions  as  to 
which  of  these  maidens  he  is  to  take  in  charge  1" 

The  negro  rolled  his  eyes  with  a  cunning  leer :  stupid  as 
he  was,  he  was  not  to  be  caught  by  any  such  trap. 

"  At  any  rate,  you  can  take  but  one recollect  your  or 
ders.  These  maidens  are  the  property  and  under  the  protec- 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  335 

tion  of  a  favorite  of  Muley  Ismael — a  man  who,  if  the  whim 
takes  him,  had  as  lief  cut  the  throat  of  a  chief  of  the  hareem, 
as  of  the  meanest  Christian.7' 

"  Who  ]"  demanded  the  negro,  swelling  and  bristling  with 
a  sense  of  his  own  dignity. 

"  Who  ?  Why  the  fire-eater — the  infidel  exterminator — 
the  lion  of  the  sea — Hassan  Herach  !" 

"  I  was  ordered  by  the  sidana,"  replied  the  kaid,  in  a  sub 
dued  manner,  "  to  enter  this  house,  and  secure  the  person  of 
one  Christian  maiden.  I  shall  take  one  of  these — I  care 
not  which." 

';  We  will  go  together,"  exclaimed  Juanita,  when  she  un 
derstood  the  decision  of  the  kaid. 

"  Do  not — oh  !  do  not  separate  us  !"  cried  Isabel,  clinging 
to  her  sister  with  a  desperate  grasp. 

The  trembling  form  of  Isabel  held  for  support  upon  the 
upright  figure  of  her  younger  sister.  Her  face  was  buried  in 
the  long  loosened  tresses  of  Juanita's  hair,  and  tears  and  sobs 
gave  utterance  to  her  emotion. 

The  younger  sister  stood  firmly  supporting  the  drooping 
form  of  Isabel.  No  tears  furrowed  her  cheek,  but  her  lip 
quivered,  and  her  eye  wildly  scanned  the  countenance  of 
the  Berber. 

"  I  will  take  one  of  these — and  I  will  take  but  one,"  ex 
claimed  the  kaid  of  the  hareem,  who  began  to  feel  the  respon 
sibilities  of  a  position  between  the  anger  of  Leila  Ajakah  on 
the  one  hand,  and  the  vengeance  of  Hassen  Herach  on  the 
other. 

The  Berber  explained  the  kaid's  words  to  the  sisters.     Jit 


336  THE     BERBER. 

anita  clasped  her  sister  convulsively  to  Her  heart,  and  then 
raised  her  head  to  the  young  chieftain,  who  was  standing  at  a 
little  distance  with  his  arms  folded  upon  his  breast,  and  with 
an  air  so  impassive  and  composed,  that  he  looked  more  like 
an  indifferent  spectator  of  the  scene  than  one  of  the  most  in 
terested  actors. 

"  If  she  remains  and  goes  with  you,"  said  Juanita,  speak 
ing  of  Isabel,  "  will  she  be  saved  f 

"  I  cannot  doubt  it,"  quietly  answered  the  Berber. 

"  Sister,"  Whispered  Juanita,  "  oh,  sister,  we  must  part." 
A  cry  of  anguish  burst  from  the  weeping  Isabel. 

"  Hush,  sister ;  'tis  useless  ;  we  must  part.  I  shall  go 
with  this  officer  of  the  court.  Oh,  sister,  you  will  visit  our 
native  land  again.  You  will  sit  by  the  banks  of  the  Guadalete. 
You  will  remember  me — you  will  pray  for  me.  But  why 
need  I  charge  you  1  Me,  sister,  you  never  will — never  can, 
forget.  I  shall  live  in  your  memory — in  your  heart,  as  you 
do  in  mine.  And  oh,  sister,  dearest  sister,  if  we  meet  not 
again  in  this  world,  surely  the  blessed  Virgin  will  unite  us  in 
the  next.  Pray  to  her,  Isabel,  that  it  may  be  so." 

A  sharp  cry — a  heart-breaking  rnoan,  followed  by  choaking 
sobs,  made  Isabel's  reply. 

Juanita  raised  her  head  again  to  the  Berber. 

"  One  of  us  must  go  with  this  man  ?"  she  demanded. 

"  I  can  see  no  help  for  it,"  he  replied. 

There  was  something  in  his  calm  tone,  and  composed,  almost 
indifferent  manner,  that  aroused  the  pride  of  the  young  girl. 
Can  it  be,  she  thought  to  herself,  that  he  is  confident  of  our 
ultimate  safety ;  and  a  glow  of  hope  began  to  mount  in  her 


A      TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  337 

breast,  but  it  was  suddenly  repressed.  A  feeling  of  bitterness 
usurped  its  place,  as  gazing  into  the  eyes  of  the  Berber  she 
could  read  in  their  passionless,  emotionless  depths,  not  even  a 
sentiment  of  curiosity  as  to  the  decision  she  was  about  to 
make.  Suddenly  she  started,  and  releasing  herself  from  the 
embrace  of  her  sister,  advanced  a  step  or  two  towards  the 
Berber. 

"  Tell  this  officer  of  the  court,"  she  exclaimed,  in  a  steady 
voice,  "  that  I  am  the  one  he  was  ordered  to  take.  I  am  ready 
to  go  with  him." 

As  she  spoke,  the  strong  emotion  that  had  been  banished 
for  a  while  from  the  Berber's  face,  rushed  to  his  eyes  and 
cheeks  and  brow,  but  he  contented  himself  with  saying  in  a 
low  tone  ; 

"  You  have  decided  well,  sefiorita  ;  go  without  fear  ;  you 
will  be  kindly  treated.  They  must  first  convert  you  to  the 
true  faith.  Before  their  persecutions  on  that  ground  trouble 
you  much,  you  shall  be  as  free  as  the  air.  Trust  me,  senorita  ! 

"  I  do,  senor.  God  knows  I  trust  in  your  courage  ;  in  your 
will ;  in  your  faith,  as  I  do  in  His  mercy  and  goodness.  God 
knows  that  I  do,  and  will  forgive  me  for  it.  Farewell !" 

Juanita  flew  to  her  sister,  embraced  her,  took  leave  of 
the  excited  Edward,  (who,  at  the  moment,  would  willingly 
have  braved  the  swords  of  all  the  swarthy  black-bearded 
guards  who  stood  silent  and  indifferent  spectators  of  the 
scene.)  and  pulling  the  folds  of  her  haick  around  her  head, 
signed  to  the  fat  old  kaid  to  lead  the  way. 

As  she  entered  the  darkened  vestibule,  she  felt  her  hand 
pressed,  and  the  voice  of  the  Berber  murmured  in  her  ear, 

15 


338  THE     BERBER. 

"  Courage  and  confidence,  Juanita ! brave,  noble,  generous 

Juanita !     Have  faith  in  me faith  not  only  in  my  will, 

but  my  power !" 

"  Faith  in  him !"  muttered  Juanita.  "  Oh !  I  would  sooner 
die  than  doubt.  Oh,  Holy  Virgin,  pardon  me!  if  in  this 
extremity  of  peril,  I  rely  too  much  on  aid  of  mortal !" 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  339 


CHAPTER    XXIX 


IT  would  be  difficult  to  decide  which  of  the  two  emotions, 
rage  or  astonishment,  rose  the  highest  in  the  bosom  of  Fa- 
tima,  as,  upon  the  first  tap  at  the  door,  in  obedience  to  the 
orders  of  her  master,  she  drew  back  the  bolts,  and  gave  ad 
mittance  to  the  Berber  and  the  young  Englishman,  who 
entered,  supporting  between  them  the  trembling  figure  of  the 
almost  insensible  Isabel. 

Seated  apart  in  the  skeffa,  but  so  as  to  command  a  view  of 
the  court,  she  rolled  her  head  from  side  to  side,  gestic  lated 
violently,  and  continued  muttering  to  herself  in  a  gibberish  of 
her  native  dialect,  and  emitting  a  stream  of  squeaks  and  grunts, 
mingled  with  her  customary  Arabic  exclamations. 

The  appearance  of  Isabel,  after  she  had,  as  she  thought, 
disposed  of  her  so  effectually,  was  a  mystery  that  she  could 
not  comprehend.  The  idea  that  Juanita  might  be  taken  in 
preference  never  having  entered  her  head. 

The  glance  of  Xaripha  was,  for  a  moment,  directed  from  the 
form  of  Isabel,  who  was  sobbing  in  her  arms.  It  sought  the 
face  of  Fatima,  and  there  was  that  in  the  eye  of  the  young 
girl  that  made  the  old  woman  shrink  with  fear,  and  cease  her 
contortions  and  mutterings.  She  saw  that  her  mistress  sus- 


340  THE     BERBER. 

pected  her  agency,  and  that  Xaripha's  glance  indicated  a 
degree  of  anger  that  might  not  be  easily  appeased. 

But  her  astonishment,  mounted  almost  to  terror,  as,  upon 
replying  to  another  tap,  the  opened  door  gave  admittance  to 
the  rais.  She  had  never  before  seen  the  famous  rover,  except 
on  that  one  unfortunate  time  when  bidding  adieu  to  Isabel  in 
the  patio  of  the  adjoining  house,  and  she  had  no  idea  of  the 
relationship  or  the  likeness  of  the  brothers.  As  the  rais 
threw  back  the  hood  of  his  djellabeah,  and  disclosed  fea 
tures  the  exact  counterpart  of  the  lover  of  Xaripha,  the 
old  woman  uttered  a  prolonged  "  Yah  !  yah !"  and  retreated 
to  the  further  corner  of  the  skeffa.  A  profound  conviction  of 
the  agency  of  djins  rushed  upon  her  mind,  and  it  was  some 
time  before  she  could  so  far  recover  herself  as  to  close  and 
secure  the  door.  A  little  light,  however,  began  to  dawn  upon 
her,  when,  upon  taking  a  look  into  the  court,  she  saw  Xa 
ripha  and  her  lover  draw  aside,  to  give  room  to  Hassan,  who, 
with  impassioned  and  anxious  looks,  flung  himself  by  the  side 
of  the  Gaditana. 

It  is  needless  to  dwell  upon  the  explanations  that  followed, 
or  upon  the  dozen  plans  for  the  rescue  of  Juanita,  that  were 
rapidly  proposed,  and  quickly  abandoned,  as  impracticable,  by 
the  excited  rais. 

The  consultation  was  interrupted  by  the  Berber,  who  issu 
ed  from  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  gallery,  where  for  half  an 
hour,  or  more,  he  had  been  sitting  in  silence,  and  motionless, 
with  his  knees  drawn  up  to  his  chin,  and  his  face  enveloped  in 
the  folds  of  his  haick.  All  eyes  were  turned  to  him  as  he 
advanced. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  341 

Hassan  sprang  forward,  and  placing  both  hands  upon  his 
shoulders,  looked  into  his  face. 

"  Are  the  eyes  of  the  famous  rover  of  Salee  not  sharp 
enough  to  see  through  a  thin  coating  of  paint  ?"  demanded  the 
Berber,  with  a  smile. 

The  rais  threw  his  arms  round  the  speaker.  Casbin  warm 
ly  returned  *the  embrace,  at  the  same  time  giving  and  re 
ceiving  several  hearty  kisses  upon  either  cheek. 

"  A  thousand  things  I  would  say  to  thee,  oh  !  friend  of 
my  heart  !"  exclaimed  the  rais.  "  A  thousand  things  I  would 
tell  thee,  oh !  companion  of  my  boyhood !  but  one  thing 
swallows  up  all  others  at  this  moment,  and  that  is  this 
maiden — this  child — who  has  been  seized  upon  by  the  hounds 
of  the  royal  hareem  !  What  can  we  do  to  save  her  f ' 

"  Nothing,"  quietly  answered  the  Berber. 

"  Nothing  !"  exclaimed  the  rais.  "  Oh  !  Casbin  Subah  ! 
AY  hen  the  lion  carried  off  one  of  a  shepherd's  flock  in  the  val 
ley  of  Zebzah,  you  sat  not  by  so  tamely,  and  said  '  Nothing  !' 
That  lion  had  your  bullet  in  his  brain,  and  your  spear  in  his 
heart,  ere  he  had  time  to  put  his  prey  in  his  stomach.  And 
when  the  grandfather  of  boars  ravaged  the  cornfields  and  scat 
tered  the  douahs  of  Tadulah,  you "' 

"  Hold  !"  interposed  the  Berber.  "  Think  not  that  I  value 
the  Spanish  maiden  less  than  the  pet  of  a  shepherd,  or  than  a 
field  of  wheat,  even  if  it  was  broad  as  the  great  plain  of  Ma- 
rasche ;  or  think  not  that  I  dread  the  wrath  of  the  soltan  more 
than  the  rage  of  the  lion  or  the  boar.  But  to  your  question 
as  to  what  ice  can  do,  I  must  still  answer  'nothing.'  Leave  it 
all  to  me ;  at  present  we  must  look  to  the  safety  of  these. 
'Tis  time  that  we  were  on  our  way " 


342  THE     BERBER. 

Advancing  to  Isabel,  the  Berber  took  her  hand.  "  Courage 
senorita !"  he  exclaimed.  "  Leave  your  sister's  fate  in  my 
hands.  With  the  blessing  of  God,  I  shall  find  some  means  of 
freeing  her  from  the  grasp  of  the  soltan  queen  !" 

"  Can  you  1 will  you  ?"  energetically  exclaimed  Isabel, 

grasping  his  hand.  "  Oh  !  senor,  I  fear  it  may  not  be  !  Tell 
me  when,  and  by  what  means." 

"  Ask  me  not,  senorita,"  replied  Casbin,  in  a  soothing 
tone.  "I  know  not  as  yet  which  plan,  of  several,  I  shall 
adopt ;  but,  believe  me,  it  will  be  an  effectual  one.  I  feel  as 
confident  of  your  sister's  ultimate  release  as  I  do  of  her  pre 
sent  safety  and  bodily  comfort." 

The  Berber  turned  away,  and  speaking  a  few  words  to  Ab- 
dallah,  advising  him  to  hasten  their  departure,  folded  his  arms 
and  leaned  in  silent  reverie  against  one  of  the  slender  columns 
of  the  gallery. 

The  manner  of  the  Berber  was  cold  and  abstracted — but 
there  was  something  in  his  assurances  that  aroused  feelings 
of  hope  and  confidence  in  the  breast  of  Isabel — feelings  that 
were  perhaps  somewhat  heightened  by  the  presence  of  her  lo 
ver,  and  by  his  ready  acquiescence  in  the  suggestion  to  set  out 
from  the  city,  leaving  Juanita  behind.  Could  she  have  known, 
however,  how  much  her  lover's  readiness  to  obey  the  Berber's 
injunction  was  due  to  a  confidence  in  his  power  to  rescue  the 
young  girl,  and  how  much  of  it  arose  from  a  conviction  that 
it  was  of  no  use  longer  to  wait,  connected  with  his  anxious 
desire  to  put  Isabel  herself  beyond  danger — the  Gaditana 
would  not,  perhaps,  have  so  rapidly  recovered  from  the  first 
shock,  or  have  been  able  to  tread  the  streets  with  so  firm  a 
step,  or  guide  her  horse  with  so  steady  a  hand. 


A    TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  343 

Isabel's  was  that  yielding,  impressible,  waxy  nature,  that 
by  many  men  is  esteemed  the  true  type  and  standard  of  femi 
nine  character.  Like  a  bar  of  soft  iron,  possessing  nc  magne 
tic  tension  of  its  own,  but  eminently  capable  of  it  by  induc 
tion,  she  readily  acknowledged  the  influence  of  her  mental 
magnet.  Her  mind  assumed  a  degree  of  polarity,  and  at  once 
pointed  as  willed  the  rais.  He  said,  "  set  out  for  the  hills,"  and 
Isabel  obeyed  with  alacrity  ;  although  not  half  an  hour  be 
fore  she  had  made  up  her  mind  that  death,  slavery,  anything, 
would  be  preferable  to  going  and  leaving  her  sister  behind. 

In  a  few  minutes  all  were  in  readiness,  there  being  no 
heavy  baggage  to  delay  their  departure.  A  few  small  pack 
ages  of  jewels,  and  a  moderate  store  of  provisions  being  all 
with  which  it  was  thought  prudent  to  encumber  themselves. 

Selim  was  despatched  by  the  rais  with  orders  to  the  crew 
to  guard  their  prisoners  until  morning,  when  they  were  to 
leave  the  city  and  return  to  Salee.  The  rais  promised  to  join, 
them  in  a  few  days,  and  in  the  meantime  they  were  to  await 
quietly  his  appearance,  and  if  any  inquiries  were  made  as  to 
his  absence,  to  reply  that  the  rover  was  kept  at  court  by  busi 
ness  with  the  soltan. 

It  was  a  clear  starlight  night  in  which  the  party  issued 
into  the  street.  Abdallah  led  the  way,  followed  by  Hassan 
and  Isabel ;  and  then  came  Xaripha  and  Edward,  followed  by 
Fatima,  who,  despite  the  cautions  of  her  master,  could  not 
help  muttering  to  herself  her  wonder  at  the  mysterious  move 
ments  to  which  she  found  herself  a  party.  The  Berber  brought 
up  the  rear.  Several  barriers,  with  closed  gates,  stretching 
across  the  streets,  and  thus  dividing  the  town  into  numerous 


344  THE     BERBER. 

small  sections,  were  encountered ;  but,  at  a  word  from  the 
chief  kaid  of  the  gates,  they  were  flung  .open,  and  the  party 
allowed  to  pass  without  question. 

Arrived  at  the  gate  in  the  principal  or  outer  wall  of  the 
city,  some  little  delay  took  place ;  but  as  soon  as  the  kaid  waa 
recognized  the  bolts  of  the  small  wicket  in  the  great  gate 
were  drawn  back,  and  free  egress  offered. 

"  God  is  God  !"  exclaimed  a  loud  voice,  as  the  travellers 
stepped  beneath  the  arch  of  the  gateway  ;  "  and  may  the  angel 
of  night  guard  from  evil  spirits  all  those  who  travel  in  the 
shade  of  his  wings.  Peace  to  the  Mussulman.  God  is  God  ! 
and  there  is  none  other  !" 

It  was  the  voice  of  the  baker;  and  in  his  salutation  the 
Berber  recognized  the  signal  that  had  been  agreed  upon,  and 
an  assurance  that  there  was  no  movement  against  his  people 
concealed  by  the  wily  soltan  under  the  proposed  military  fete. 
The  mind  of  the  chieftain  was  relieved  from  one  source  of 
apprehension,  and  could  now  devote  itself  more  exclusively  to 
a  consideration  of  the  subject  that  was  heaviest  at  the  hearts 
of  all,  not  even  excepting  Fatima,  who,  now  that  she  had  begun 
to  get  an  idea  of  the  true  state  of  the  case,  shuddered  to  think 
that  she  had  been  the  means  of  throwing  the  young  Spanish 
girl  into  the  power  of  the  cruel  and  selfish  soltan  queen. 

A  short  half  hour's  walk  brought  the  travellers  to  the 
crumbling  wall  surrounding  a  saint's  house.  The  sanctorium 
itself  consisted  of  a  small  square  building,  containing  a  single 
room,  and  surmounted  by  a  dome.  An  arched  entrance,  with 
out  a  door,  served  for  air  and  light.  The  floor  was  paved 
with  coarse  bricks,  but  upon  the  wood  work  of  the  roof  were 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  345 

the  remains  of  fine  carving  and  gilding,  and  upon  the  cracked 
and  crumbling  walls  were  traces  of  that  elegant  and  fanciful 
arabesque  for  which  Moorish  art  was  once  so  famed.  Within 
the  enclosure,  and  around  the  dilapidated  sanctorium,  the 
ground  was  overgrown  with  brambles  and  gigantic  cacti,  so 
that  there  was  hardly  clear  space  enough  for  the  mules  and 
horses  that,  by  the  provision  of  the  kaid,  were  assembled  un 
der  the  charge  of  a  slave. 

It  took  a  few  minutes  to  adjust  the  saddles  and  to  assist 
the  females  to  their  seats  on  the  backs  of  the  mules.  In  this 
the  Berber  offered  no  assistance,  and  made  no  suggestion.  In 
silence  he  threw  himself  into  the  saddle,  sat  quietly  for  a  mo 
ment,  and  then  suddenly  striking  his  spurs  into  his  steed,  a 
fine  large  gray,  jumped  him  over  the  wall  of  the  enclosure 
into  the  road.  The  barb,  somewhat  astonished  at  the  unex 
pected  call  upon  his  agility,  snorted  with  excitement  as  he 
reached  the  sloping  ground  on  the  other  side  ;  but  as  he 
crouched  from  the  shock,  and  rose  again,  ready  to  launch  out  in 
to  the  plain,  his  motions  were  arrested  by  a  powerful  arm  that 
compelled  him  to  instant  quiet.  Like  a  statue  stood  the  horse 
beneath  his  motionless  rider,  until  Hassan  and  Abdallah, 
mounting  their  horses,  led  their  party  through  the  gate  and 
around  by  the  walls  to  the  road.  As  soon  as  they  came  in 
siiiht.  the  Berber  wheeled  his  horse  and  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  the  travellers  ;  preserving  from  them  a  variable  dis 
tance,  but  always  sufficient  to  prevent  any  conversation.  At 
one  moment  both  horse  and  rider  would  be  distinctly  visible 
in  the  clear  star-light ;  the  next,  the  gray  barb  would  spring 
forward  and  disappear  in  the  darkness,  leaving,  however,  suf- 

15* 


346  THE     BERBER. 

ficent  indication  to  the  travellers  in  the  sound  of  his  hoofs,  and 
in  the  cloud  of  sparks  that,  like  a  swarm  of  fire-flies,  started 
up  from  the  flinty  ground,  and  flitted  after  his  foot-steps. 

As  the  travellers  moved  on  as  rapidly  as  the  darkness  and 
the  nature  of  the  road  would  permit,  their  attention  became 
gradually  diverted  from  themselves  to  the  strange  actions  of 
their  guide.  At  first  they  supposed  his  eccentric  movements 
had  relation  to  their  own  safety ;  but  soon  it  was  seen 
that  they  could  have  no  such  object.  The  very  demon  of 
restlessness  seemed  to  have  taken  possession  of  both  steed 
and  rider ;  and  after  each  disappearance,  all  eyes  were  strained 
to  watch  for  their  return. 

"He's  a  djin;  yah,  yah!  He's  a  djin.  I  know  him  this 
time,"  muttered  Fatima,  as  from  her  high  saddle  she  saw  the 
gray  barb  glint  by  for  the  twentieth  time. 

"  Quiet  yourself,  dearest,"  replied  the  rais  to  a  whisper  from 
Isabel.  "  There  is  no  immediate  danger.  If  there  were,  the 
Berber  chief  would  be  more  cautious  in  his  movements." 

"  He  rides  more  like  some  wild  demon  than  like  a  trusty 
guide,"  returned  Isabel. 

"But  none  the  less  to  be  trusted  for  all  that,"  replied 
the  rais. 

"  And  Juanita  1 " 

"  Is  the  very  subject  of  his  thoughts  at  this  moment.  I 
have  known  him  well  since  his  early  boyhood ;  and  I  know 
the  effect  of  mental  excitement  upon  his  strong  bodily  and  mus 
cular  vitality.  Believe  me,  he  is  revolving  some  scheme  for  her 
rescue,  and  his  sudden  spurrings  are  but  the  emphatic  marks 
in  the  current  of  his  thoughts." 

"  But  has  he  the  power  ?" 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  347 

"  He  loves  your  sister  ?"  replied  the  rais,  stretching  out 
his  hand  to  Isabel. 

"  I  think  that  he  does." 

"  Then  rest  assured  that  she  is  safe.  I  know  his  resources 
of  will  and  wit — they  are  boundless.  I  verily  believe  that  if 
it  served  his  purposes  to  do  so,  he  could  carry  off  the  favorite 
of  the  royal  hareem  from  the  side  of  the  soltan,  despite  of  all 
bars  and  guards.  You  recollect  his  adventure  with  the  sheik 
of  Arbazza  ?"  continued  the  rais,  addressing  Abdallah. 

"  Can  I  have  forgotten  a  fate,  the  fame  of  which  yet  echoes 
throughout  the  valleys  of  Tedler  ?"  replied  the  kaid. 

"  He  was  but  a  boy scarce  twelve  years  of  age ;  but  it 

was  a  deed  that  put  to  shame  the  oldest  heroes  of  the  tents." 

Xaripha  and  Edward  drew  up  closer  to  the  speaker.  The 
rais  looked  around  cautiously  for  a  few  moments.  The  coun 
try  was  open,  and  no  signs  of  human  life  near. 

':  The  sheik  of  Arbazza  was  a  shereef  and  a  saint,"  began 
the  rais,  in  a  low  but  distinct  voice.  "  He  was  of  a  pure 
Arabic  stock,  and  a  bitter  hater  of  the  Berbers.  He  was  also 
the  wealthiest  man  in  all  the  kingdom  of  Fez;  and  among  his 
riches  he  possessed  one  thing  that  he  valued  more  than  all  the 
rest — a  mare  of  the  most  famous  blood  of  Duquella.  Her 
pedigree  could  be  traced  back  for  ages,  and  the  fame  of  her 
beauty  and  her  speed  filled  the  whole  land.  She  was  a  tho 
rough-bred  "  deafener "  and  "wind-drinker."  She  was  as  the 
apple  of  his  eye ;  and  proud  was  the  sheik  of  Arbazza  that  he 
was  the  owner  of  a  creature  that  for  beauty,  fire,  speed,  and 
endurance,  could  not  be  matched,  travel  the  world  over.'* 
The  sheik  of  Arbazza  was  at  feud  with  several  of  hia 


348  THE     BERBER. 

neighbors,  both  of  plain  and  hill ;  and  numerous  attempts  were 
made  by  his  enemies,  and,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  by  seve 
ral  of  his  friends,  to  dispossess  him  of  his  favorite.     But  the 
sheik  was  a   wary    man.   and   vain   were    all   the    efforts  of 
treacherous  friends  and  open  enemies.     He  was  also  a  boast 
ful  and  an  arrogant  man ;  and  he  prided  himself  not  a  little  in 
his  ability  to  defeat  and  punish  any  attempt  to  carry  off  the 
descendant  of  the  famous  Maha  el  Bahr,  or  "  steed  of  the  sea." 
Already  had  several  gallant  and  adventurous  spirits  perished, 
and  more  had  failed,  and  been  driven  back  in  disgrace,  when 
the  vanity   of  the   sheik  slipped  the  bridle  of  prudence,  and 
galloped  off  with  him  without  check  or  restraint.     He  pub 
lished  an  invitation  to  all  who  felt  disposed  to  steal  his  famous 
mare.     He  announced   a   defiance  to  the   boldest  and    most 
adroit  horse-stealers  in  all  the  empire.     He  even  offered,  in 
his  vain  sense  of  security,  a  reward  of  a  thousand  gold  metz- 
cals  to  whoever  should  succeed  in  carrying  off  El  Hassaneh,  or 
the  Beautiful.     Of  course,  after  this  the  watchfulness   of  the 
sheik  was  not    relaxed,  or  his  precautions   decreased.     Each 
night  the  mare  was  picketted  by  the  door  of  his  tent.     One 
end  of  an  iron  chain  was  put  around  he*  leg,  and  locked,  and 
the  key  deposited  in  the  sheik's  girdle  ;  the  other  end  of  the 
chain  was  brought  within  the  tent,  passed  under   the  sheik's 
bed,  and  fastened  to  the  tent  pole.     Within  reach  of  his  hand 
stood  his  loaded  gun,  the  match  always   burning — and   the 
sheik  was  the  most  famous  marksman  of  the  tribes.    Without 
the  tent,  a  pack  of  the  largest  and  fiercest  dogs  threatened 
every  intruder  with  instant  death. 

Among  the  enemies  of  the  sheik  the  principal  one   con 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  349 

sisted  of  a  portion  of  the  Beni  Mozarg  ;  and  of  course  nothing 
would  have  delighted  the  Berbers  more  than  for  one  of  their 
number  to  have  achieved  the  feat  of  carrying  off  the  sheik's 
famous  mare.  On  the  one  hand  was  every  inducement  to  at 
tempt  the  adventure — pride,  revenge,  the  love  of  glory,  and  an 
admiration  of  horse-flesh ;  but  on  the  other  hand,  there  were 
too  many  obstacles  in  the  way — the  distance  to  the  plains ; 
the  difficulty  of  approaching  the  donah  ;  the  canine  guards ; 
the  chain  ;  and  more  than  all,  the  watchfulness  and  prowess 
of  the  sheik.  These  obstacles  had  been  found  by  repeated 
experiments  insurmountable,  and  the  very  bravado  of  the 
sheik,  while  it  was  looked  upon  as  the  worst  of  insults,  help 
ed  to  deter  the  boldest  of  the  Berbers  from  undertaking  the 
adventure. 

At  that  time  Casbin,  son  of  the  amekran  of  the  Beni 
Mozarg,  was  scarce  turned  of  thirteen,  but  already  had  he  killed 
the  king  of  beasts,  and  acquired  the  name  of  el  subah,  or  the 
lion.  It  was  noticed  that  the  young  prince  was  for  days  busy 
in  constructing  a  strong  basket,  or  rather  cage.  The  holes  in 
it  were  just  wide  enough  to  admit  a  hound's  nose ;  and  the 
withes  were  of  the  stoutest  kind,  and  wound  with  strips  of  un- 
tanned  hide.  The  basket  excited  much  curiosity,  but  not  a 
word  did  the  young  chieftain  vouchsafe  as  to  the  purpose  to 
which  it  was  to  be  applied.  But  great  was  the  surprise  when 
catching  a  common  cat,  he  enclosed  her  in  the  basket,  and  se 
curely  fastened  the  door. 

It  was  in  a  terrible  storm  of  snow  that  Casbin,  with  his 
cage  and  cat  strapped  behind  his  saddle,  set  out  secretly  from 
the  kassir.  Towards  night  he  reached  the  low  land  and  the 


350  THE     BERBER. 

neighborhood  of  the  tents  of  the  sheik.  Under  cover  of  the 
storm,  which  had  changed  as  he  descended  to  one  of  rain 
mingled  with  sleet,  he  approached  quite  near  to  the  douah. 
Here  he  remained  until  some  time  after  midnight,  when 
mounting,  he  rode  boldly  up  to  the  sheik's  tent.  The  dogs 
were  wide  awake,  and  in  full  chorus,  but  they  were  busy  with 
some  other  object  of  alarm,  and  did  not  perceive  him  until  he 
was  within  fifty  yards.  He  stopped,  uttered  the  cry  of  a 
jackal,  and  instantly  the  whole  pack  came  bounding  towards 
him.  Casbin  lowered  the  cage  to  the  ground  and  retreated. 
The  attention  of  the  dogs  was  wholly  engrossed  by  the  cat. 
They  thrust  the  points  of  their  noses  into  the  meshes  of  the 
basket ;  they  rolled  it  over  and  over ;  they  shook  it  and  tried 
to  pull  it  to  pieces  with  their  paws  and  teeth ;  they  fought  with 
each  other  in  their  eagerness  for  a  bite.  They  had  no  eyes, 
ears,  noses  or  mouths  for  any  thing  except  the  cat. 

Making  a  detour,  Casbin  came  upon  the  tent  from  the  other 
side.  At  a  proper  distance  he  slipped  from  his  horse,  secured 
him  in  a  moment,  and  advanced  to  the  tent  slowly.  Noiseless 
ly,  with  his  breast  to  the  ground,  the  young  prince  crept  up 
and  put  his  head  in  under  the  curtain.  All  was  dark,  save  a  faint 
glimmer  that  came  from  the  women's  apartment.  The  sheik 
was  asleep.  Casbin  drew  his  body  into  the  tent.  The  first 
thing  he  did  was  to  feel  for  the  gun,  which  he  noiselessly 
emptied  of  the  ball,  and  replaced  in  its  position.  He  then 
drew  his  knife,  and  stretching  himself  by  the  side  of  the  sheik, 
deliberately  began  cutting  through  his  woolen  sash,  first  on  one 
side  and  then  on  the  other.  The  slumbers  of  the  sheik  were 
far  from  sound,  but  so  quietly  and  skilfully  was  the  operation 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  351 

conducted,  that  he  was  not  awakened,  nor  any  alarm  given  to 
the  other  inmates  of  the  tent. 

The  front  turns  of  the  sash  were  lifted  from  the  sleeper. 
Upon  running  his  hands  through  the  folds,  Casbin  lighted  at 
once  upon  the  key.  The  most  difficult  part  of  the  adventure 
was  achieved.  Casbin  stuck  his  dagger  in  the  ground  in  front 
of  the  sheik's  face,  and  as  slowly  and  as  noiselessly  as  before 
crept  under  the  door  curtain  of  the  tent. 

There  stood  the  noble  animal  El  Hassaneh,  the  Beautiful. 
The  rain  had  ceased  ;  the  clouds  had  suddenly  broken  away, 
and  the  bright  star-light,  mingled  with  the  first  faint  sheen  of 
dawn,  revealed  her  beautiful  proportions  to  the  young  prince. 
But  not  long  did  he  tarry  to  admire.  He  took  one  look  to 
make  sure  that  it  was  indeed  she,  the  much-praised  and  oft 
described  beauty,  and  then  applying  the  key  to  the  padlock, 
liberated  her  foot  from  the  chain.  He  threw  over  her  head  a 
hempen  bridle.  He  freed  her  fetlocks  from  the  cords  by 
which  she  was  picketed.  He  vaulted  on  her  back. 

"  Oh,  sheik  Ali !"  shouted  the  youth,  "  Come  forth,  and  bid 
adieu  to  your  favorite  !" 

No  answer  was  returned,  and  Casbin,  springing  lightly 
to  the  ground,  seized  the  end  of  the  chain,  and  giving  it  a 
vigorous  shake,  vaulted  again  to  the  back  of  el  Hassaneh. 

"  Come  forth,  oh,  most  arrogant  sheik  of  Arbazza !" 
shouted  Casbin.  "  Your  mare  will  not  leave  you  without  re 
turning  you  thanks  for  your  favors." 

The  curtain  of  the  tent  was  thrown  violently  aside.  One 
glance  showed  to  the  horror-stricken  sheik  his  favorite  freed 
from  her  chain,  and  with  some  one  on  her  back.  He  hesitated 


352  THE     BERBER. 

not  an  instant.  With  a  groan  of  rage,  he  raised  his  gun  to 
his  shoulder,  and  fired.  What  was  his  astonishment  to  find 
that  the  audacious  rider  still  preserved  his  seat. 

The  report  of  the  gun  and  the  burst  of  boyish  laughter  that 
followed  it,  aroused  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  douah.  The 
Arabs  came  pouring  out  of  their  tents. 

"  Oh,  most  renowned  sheik !"  cried  the  prince.  "  Thou 
former  master  of  el  Hassaneh !  Disturb  not  thy  soul  with 
passion,  and  be  not  above  listening  to  advice  from  the  beard 
less.  Never,  oh  sheik  !  attempt  to  shoot  any  one  without  a 
ball  in  your  gun.  Hah  !  hah  !  hah !  And  as  to  your  mare, 
comfort  you/self.  I  have  taken  her,  but  it  is  merely  an  ex 
change.  I  leave  you  a  very  good  horse.  The  thousand  metz- 
cals  you  offered  as  a  reward  you  can  keep  to  make  up  the 
difference  between  him  and  the  mare.  A  beautiful  day  to  you, 
oh  sheik  !  and  may  the  Lord  guard  you  with  better  care  than 
you  have  bestowed  upon  el  Hassaneh." 

The  young  prince  wheeled  his  well-won  treasure,  and  giving 
her  the  rein,  was  off  like  a  bolt  from  a  bow.  Terrible  were 
the  shouts  of  rage  that  arose  behind  him,  and  then  a  sudden 
volley  sent  the  bullets  flying  after  him ;  but  what  with  the 
distance  and  the  darkness,  they  flew  wide  of  the  mark. 

And  then  such  a  saddling  of  horses,  and  such  a  mounting 
in  haste.  The  only  hope,  of  course,  was  to  catch  him  by 
tiring  the  mare  down  by  relays  of  horses,  picked  up  at 
the  different  douahs  that  should  be  passed.  But  it  was  in 
vain.  The  horsemen  of  village  after  village,  with  fresh  steeds, 
joined  in  the  chase ;  but  El  Hassaneh  carried  light  weight, 
and  at  a  steady  pace,  that  equalled  the  full  speed  of  the  fresh- 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  353 

est  of  her  pursuers,  she  winged  her  way  ere  mid-day  acros8 
the  plains,  and  paused  for  breath  only  amid  the  thickets  on 
the  slopes  of  the  mountains." 

The  rais  paused ;  but  before  any  of  his  auditors  had  an 
opportunity  to  make  any  comments,  the  hero  of  the  story 
himself  dashed  up,  and  drew  rein  beside  the  group. 

"  We  will  here  make  a  large  detour,"  he  exclaimed,  "  to 
avoid  some  parties  of  blacks  who  are  eating  up  the  tribute 
of  several  villages  of  Arabs  hereabout.  We  must  reach  the 
thickets  of  ilex,  on  our  left,  before  it  grows  much  lighter. 
Close  up,  keep  silence,  and  move  a  little  faster." 

The  manner  of  the  Berber  was  abrupt,  and  his  voice 
somewhat  stern ;  but  there  was  something  in  its  tone  that 
spoke  of  confidence  in  himself,  and  consequently  bespoke 
confidence  in  his  hearers.  Without  reply  they  spurred  up 
their  beasts,  and  followed  the  lead  of  the  gray  barb  and  his 
rider,  whose  mood  seemed  to  have  suddenly  changed  from 
one  of  furious  restlessness  to  extreme  quiet.  The  gray  am 
bling  along  as  soberly  as  Fatima's  mule,  and  his  master  pre 
serving  his  position  at  the  head  of  the  party  in  silence,  ex- 
cepting  occasionally  humming,  in  a  low  tone,  snatches  of  a 
Berber  song. 

The  scraggy  oak  and  pine  covering  was  reached  as  the 
sun  was  rising  over  the  lofty  Atlas.  Keeping  just  within 
shelter  of  the  wood,  so  as  to  be  screened  from  observation, 
the  Berber  again  turned  to  the  east,  and  moving  on  until 
the  sun  was  fifteen  or  twenty  degrees  above  the  horizon, 
halted  his  party  for  breakfast  in  an  open  glade,  where  a 
slender  thread  of  water  trickled  down  a  ledge  of  rocks. 


354  THE     BERBER. 

The  soil  around  was  freshly  furrowed  in  various  directions — 
the  marks  of  the  wild  boar,  in  his  search  after  truffles; 
but  no  *'•  Father  of  Tusks "  appeared  to  disturb  their  repast. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  355 


CHAPTER   XXX. 


THE  sun  had  declined  from  the  meridian  far  enough  to  give 
the  shadows  of  the  travellers  a  perceptible  inclination  towards 
the  east,  when  emerging  from  the  wood  into  the  open  plain, 
their  course  was  directed  by  the  Berber  a  little  more  to  the 
south  of  east.  The  foot  of  the  hills  was  close  at  hand,  and 
far  in  the  distance,  to  the  west,  were  the  domes  and  mina 
rets  of  the  capital. 

As  they  came  to  a  small  elevation  of  ground,  overgrown 
with  palmetto  bushes  and  wild  thistle,  the  Berber  halted  the 
party,  dismounted,  and  throwing  the  rein  of  his  horse  to  the 
kaid,  plunged  into  the  bushes  and  ascended  the  hillock,  which 
commanded  an  extensive  view  of  the  plain. 

In  a  few  moments  he  returned,  bringing  with  him  a  man 
whom  he  introduced  to  the  travellers  as  their  future  guide. 
The  Berber  assured  the  travellers  that  all  dangers  were  passed, 
and  that  they  might  trust  themselves  in  perfect  confidence  to 
the  guidance  of  the  man  before  them,  who  was  one  of  his 
most  faithful  followers,  and  one  of  the  chain  of  advanced  sen 
tinels  that  it  had  been  found  essential  to  push  out  from  the 
base  of  the  hills. 

"You   see   those   ruins  on  the  crest  of  that  cliff?"  said 


856  THE     BERBER. 

Casbin,  pointing  to  the  objects  indicated  by  his  speech. 
"They  are  about  two  hours'  ride  from  this  spot,  by  the  direct 
road ;  but  as  you  had  better,  perhaps,  deviate  a  little  to  avoid 
the  only  Arab  douah  that  lies  hereabout,  it  may  take  you  un 
til  near  sunset  to  reach  them.  But  once  there,  and  you  are 
perfectly  safe.  The  ruins,  which  are  the  remains  of  an  old 
Roman  castle,  stand  upon  the  further  brink  of  a  narrow  but 
deep  ravine,  spanned  by  a  bridge  of  ropes  :  cross  the  bridge, 
enter  the  ruins,  and  take  up  your  quarters  there  until  I  join 
you.  Fear  not  to  be  disturbed.  The  spot  has  the  reputation 
throughout  the  empire  of  being  the  worst  haunt  of  djins  and 
evil  spirits  of  any  place  in  the  world.  You  are  not  afraid  of 
spirits,  and  as  for  the  Moors,  or,  for  the  matter  of  that,  my  own 
countrymen,  there  are  not  five  men  in  all  Barbary  who  could 
be  hired  to  enter  the  crumbling  archway.  Rest,  without  fear, 
until  to-morrow  evening,  when  I  will  join  you — and  shall 
bring  with  me " 

"  My  sister  V  exclaimed  Isabel,  with  emotion.  "  Oh  ! 

senor  !  promise  that  you  will  do  so promise  that  you  will 

free  her,  and  bring  her  with " 

"  Nay,  senorita,"  said  the  Berber,  advancing  his  horse  and 
taking  her  hand.  "  I  cannot  promise  that ;  but  I  do  promise 
to  bring  you  news  of  her,  and  good  news  too.  Till  then, 
adios  !"  And  waving  his  hand,  he  spurred  his  horse  and 
galloped  off  in  the  direction  of  the  city. 

Before  resuming  their  advance,  the  rais  put  a  few  ques 
tions  to  the  guide  ;  but  the  man  evinced  a  decided  indispo 
sition  to  answer,  and  his  replies  were  expressed  in  an  almost 
incomprehensible  jargon  of  Berber  and  Arabic.  He  admitted, 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  357 

however,  that  he  had  been  on  the  watch  since  morning,  and 
that  from  his  post  his  eye  had  commanded  a  distant  view  of 
bodies  of  horse  coming  out  of  the  city,  and  moving  towards 
the  field  of  Sakel.  He  said  that  there  was  nothing  to  fear 
even  from  the  village  of  Arabs  that  his  master  had  mentioned, 
but  inasmuch  as  he  had  been  directed  to  lead  the  party  around 
rather  than  by  it,  he  should  do  so,  and  that  there  was  nothing 
more  to  be  said  about  it.  Pulling  the  straps  of  his  sandals 
and  tightening  his  belt,  the  fellow  shrank  with  a  dogged  air 
from  any  further  questioning,  and  placing  himself  at  the  head 
of  the  party  led  off  at  a  rapid  step,  which  he  slackened  not  for 
three  hours.  Twining  round  and  round,  amid  the  little  hil 
locks  dotting  the  country,  or  carefully  threading  the  water 
gullies  and  dry  beds  of  rivulets,  he  conducted  the  travellers 
through  an  open  and  apparently,  as  viewed  from  a  distance, 
a  level  country,  without  their  coming  in  sight  of  a  living 
creature  save  a  few  stray  sheep  or  wandering  cows,  with  the 
tall  white  cow-birds  perched  upon  their  backs  or  stalking  by 
their  sides. 

During  the  latter  part  of  thefPcourse  the  path  had  been 
gradually  ascending.  Suddenly,  upon  gaining  a  clear  and 
level  piece  of  ground,  the  whole  country  behind  them  opened 
to  their  view.  The  city  lay  within  sight,  and  at  first  they 
were  quite  startled  to  see  it  so  distinctly,  and  apparently  so 
near.  The  plain  of  Sakel,  about  half  way  between  the  city 
and  this  position,  was  pointed  out  by  the  guide.  Although 
ten  or  twelve  miles  distant,  the  moving  masses  of  horsemen 
and  the  tall  white  tents  of  the  soltan  could  be  discerned. 

In  front  of  them,  and  right  across  their  path,  yawned  a  ra- 


358  THE     BERBER. 

vine,  with  almost  perpendicular  sides,  and  nearly  two  hundred 
feet  deep.  Some  powerful  shock  of  an  earthquake  had  riven 
the  slaty  rock ;  and  away  on  either  side  for  miles  the  gap  ex 
tended  with  a  varying  width  of  from  two  to  three  hundred 
feet.  Just  where  they  stood  the  ravine  was  the  narrowest ;  the 
projection  of  two  corresponding  crags  approximating  the  sides 
to  within  a  distance  of  fifty  feet.  Advantage  had  been  taken 
of  this  approximation  to  throw  across  a  bridge  of  cords.  The 
construction  of  this  bridge  was  exceedingly  simple ;  and,  al 
though  narrow  and  slight,  it  offered  a  secure  passage  to  horse 
men  as  well  as  pedestrians.  Four  small,  but  strong  cords  of 
twisted  hide  were  stretched  from  side  to  side,  and  firmly  se 
cured  to  wooden  pegs  driven  into  holes  in  the  rock.  Upon 
these  cords  rested  thin  planks  of  oak.  Thongs,  passed  through 
holes  in  the  planks,  fastened  the  planks  to  the  cords.  No 
parapets  protected  the  sides. 

A  few  bridges  of  the  kind  are  to  be  found  in  the  present 
day  in  Morocco ;  but  they  are  wholly  confined  to  mountain 
ravines.  This  kind  of  bridge  would  hardly  answer  for  wide 
rivers,  with,  perhaps,  low  muddy  banks ;  and  the  Moors  have 
not  the  engineering  skili  to  build  any  that  would ;  although 
the  absence  of  bridges  is  not,  perhaps,  owing  so  much  to  a 
want  of  skill  as  to  the  general  debasement  and  misery  of  the 
people,  and  the  selfish  and  unenlightened  tyranny  of  the  go 
vernment.  One  or  two  structures  of  ancient  date  remain,  and 
the  ruins  of  others  are  still  to  be  seen ;  but,  in  general,  the 
rivers  of  Morocco  are  crossed  by  fording  and  swimming,  or  in 
boats,  and  on  rafts  buoyed  up  by  bundles  of  reeds  or  inflated 
skins. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  359 

The  kaid  and  his  party  hesitated  before  setting  foot  on  a 
structure  apparently  so  slight  and  so  frail,  and,  notwithstanding 
the  assurances  of  the  Berber  guide  that  it  would  support  the 
weight  of  as  many  horsemen  as  could  be  crowded  on  it,  the 
kaid  insisted  upon  dismounting,  and  crossing  it  first  on  foot. 

A  few  minutes'  climbing  up  a  winding  and  precipitous  path 
brought  the  travellers  to  an  opening  over  an  arched  gateway 
in  the  crumbling  walls,  indicated  by  the  Berber  chief.  Beyond 
this  the  guide  refused  to  go.  Even  the  rais  and  kaid  entered 
with  a  look  of  caution  and  suspicion.  Within,  there  was  a 
large  open  enclosure,  several  hundred  feet  square,  overgrown 
with  bushes,  amid  which  gleamed  the  marble  of  broken  and 
fallen  cornice,  architrave,  and  column.  A  space  was  cleared ; 
carpets  spread ;  the  horses  picketed,  and  a  fire  lighted.  Fa- 
tima  busied  herself  in  preparing  supper.  Kaid  Abdallah 
remained  with  the  maidens ;  while  the  rais  an*  his  brother  set 
forth  to  make  an  examination  of  the  ruins,  as  a  proper  precau 
tion  to  passing  the  night  in  a  place  so  desolate,  and  so  likely 
to  harbour  wild  animals ;  to  say  nothing  of  djins  or  the  ghosts 
of  defunct  Mauritaneans,  Romans,  and  Goths,  who,  as  it  was 
believed,  still  haunted  the  scene  of  4their  ancient  orgies  and 
feuds. 

The  examination  was  in  every  way  satisfactory ;  but 
we  will  not  follow  the  movements  and  doings  of  the  party 
further  at  present.  We  must  leave  them  for  the  night,  as  it 
best  suits  our  purposes  to  devote  the  conclusion  of  the  chapter 
to  the  movements  of  the  Amekran  of  the  Beni  Mozarg. 

Upon  bidding  adieu  to  the  party  that  he  had  conducted 
safely  through  the  most  dangerous  part  of  their  journey,  Cas- 


360  THE     BERBER. 

bin  directed  his  course  across  jhe  country  towards  the  city, 
distant  perhaps  some  twenty  miles.  The  gray  barb  was  of 
good  blood,  and  answered  to  the  spur  at  the  top  of  his  speed, 
for  an  hour,  when  suddenly  drawing  rein  in  front  of  a  cluster  of 
black  tents,  concealed  in  the  hollow  of  a  water-course,  Casbin 
sprang  to  the  ground.  The  sheik  advanced  to  receive  him. 
with  the  customary  salutations,  but  suddenly  changing  from 
Arabic  to  Berber,  a  few  words  were  exchanged  in  the  lat 
ter  language,  when  disappearing  behind  the  tents  for  a  mo 
ment,  he  again  emerged,  leading  a  gaunt  roan  by  a  halter  of 
palmetto  cord.  The  saddle  and  bridle  of  the  gray  were 
quickly  changed  to  the  roan,  when  vaulting  to  his  back,  the 
Berber  held  out  his  hand  to  be  kissed,  and  then  striking  his 
spurs  into  the  fresh  barb's  shrunken  flanks,  was  off  again  at 
full  speed. 

As  the  sun  disappeared  below  the  horizon  he  stopped  at  an 
enclosure,  surrounded  by  a  fence  of  tall  reeds.  Upon  a  signal 
the  gate  was  opened  by  a  man  with  red  hair  and  beard,  and 
blue  eyes,  who  seemed  to  expect  the  Berber  to  enter;  but, 
dismounting,  the  chieftain  threw  him  the  bridle,  and  indi 
cated,  rather  by  gestures  than  by  words,  that  the  horse  was 
to  be  led  within. 

"  Will  not  my  lord  come  in  ?"  said  the  man. 

"  No,  good  Red-beard,  I  have  not  time.  Take  in  this  beast 
and  feed  him,  and  have  him  ready  for  me  by  midnight.  Bo- 
roon  ! how  is  he  ?" 

"  The  son  of  El  Hassaneh  is  well,"  replied  the  man ;  "  but 
he  cries  for  his  master." 

"  Give  him  one  meal  of  dates  to-night,  and  no  water — 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  361 

nothing  but  camel's  milk.  Groom  him  thoroughly spare 

no  pains  or  labor.  I  have  need  of  him  in  his  best  condition 
to-morrow.  See  to  it,  Red-beard — and  have  him  also  ready 
for  me  at  midnight." 

The  Berber  turned  away.  A  walk  of  ten  minutes  sur 
mounted  a  gentle  elevation,  and  brought  him  to  the  gate  of  the 
city,  which  was  not  yet  locked  for  the  night.  Without  ques 
tion  he  passed  in,  and  threading  the  narrow  streets,  made  his 
way  to  the  palace.  The  gate  was  open,  and  every  thing  gave 
token  of  a  relaxation  of  discipline,  which,  under  the  best  of 
circumstances,  was  never  very  strict.  The  departure  of  the 
soltan,  who  had  set  out  for  the  field  of  Sakel,  and  the  absence 
of  the  kaid  of  the  gates,  had  left  the  guards  to  their  own  in 
clinations,  and  the  greater  part  of  them  were  dispersed  in  the 
neighboring  coffee-houses,  where  they  were  busily  engaged  in 
breaking  the  long  fast  of  tie  day. 

Slaves  were  passing  in  and  out,  and  no  objection  was 
offered  by  any  one  to  the  entrance  of  the  Berber.  Arrived, 
however,  at  the  gate  of  the  hareem,  admission  was  refused  by 
a  surly  black  eunuch,  who,  armed  with  his  filela,  kept  watch 
and  ward  over  the  female  slaves,  whose  duties  required  them 
to  visit  the  cobahs,  or  store  houses,  in  different  parts  of  the 
palace.  The  Berber  quietly  seated  himself  upon  the  ground, 
so  as  to  command  a  view  of  the  slaves  as  they  passed ;  but 
vainly  he  waited  for  some  one  with  whom  he  could  safely 
communicate,  to  appear.  It  became  quite  dark.  From  within 
one  of  the  innumerable  open  patios  of  the  hareem  gleamed 
upward  the  light  of  torches,  while  the  tinkling  of  guitars,  and 
the  sounds  of  female  voices  in  song,  were  upborne  on  the  still 

16 


362  THE     BERBER. 

air.  The  Berber  rose,  and  gliding  along  the  labyrinth  of  the 
outside  courts  and  gardens,  gained  a  position  where  the  walls 
of  the  hareem  alone  separated  him  from  the  musicians.  Just 
above  his  head,  and  almost  within  reach  of  his  hand,  were  two 
slender  loop-holes,  for  the  purpose  of  giving  light  to  one  of 
the  rooms  surrounding  the  small  patio.  A  heavy  cylinder 
of  wood,  used  as  a  garden-roller,  was  lying  at  hand.  Placed 
on  its  end  against  the  wall,  it  proved  just  long  enough  to 
enable  the  young  man  to  reach  the  loop-holes  with  his  hands, 
and  draw  himself  up,  so  as  to  see  into  the  room,  and  through 
two  or  three  open  arches  into  the  court. 

His  position,  liable  as  he  was  at  any  moment  to  dis 
covery  by  some  wandering  custodian  of  the  palace  grounds, 
was  full  of  danger;  but  all  risk  was  amply  repaid  by  the 
sight  which  met  his  eyes.  Seated  upon  a  low  couch,  beneath  a 
silken  canopy,  sat  the  young  Gaditnna.  Around  her  were  half 
a  dozen  young  girls,  in  various  attitudes  of  respect ;  be 
fore  her  two  Egyptian  dancing  girls  were  posturing,  in  their 
graceful  but  lascivious  style,  to  the  sound  of  castanets  and 
guitars;  slaves  were  moving  about  with  trays  of  fruits  and 
confectionery.  At  the  first  glance  the  Berber  comprehended 
the  whole  scene.  Knowing  well  the  designs  of  the  soltana,  he 
saw  the  hand  of  the  astute  old  negress  in  this  effort  to  divert 
the  mind  of  the  young  girl,  and  to  beguile  her  with  the  plea 
sures  of  hareem  life. 

Juanita  gazed  with  a  listless  air  upon  the  dancers.  Her 
thoughts  appeared  to  be  employed  upon  far  different  subjects, 
and  yet  her  face  occasionally  wore  an  air  of  constraint,  as  if 
in  obedience  to  the  dictates  of  policy,  she  forced  herself  to 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO. 


appear  pleased  with  the  attentions  of  those  around  her.  There 
was,  however,  nothing  desponding  in  her  looks ;  on  the  contra 
ry,  there  flashed  from  her  eyes,  every  now  and  then,  a  look  al 
most  of  triumph,  that  gradually  subsiding,  left,  as  predominant 
over  all  other  emotions,  an  expression  of  quiet  confidence. 

The  heart  of  the  young  man  throbbed  with  the  intense  de 
sire  to  make  known  his  presence  to  the  captive.  It  was  with 
the  view  of  opening  some  communication  with  her,  and  of 
sending  her  some  message  of  encouragement  and  affection, 
that  he  had  ventured  within  the  palace  walls ;  but  he  had  had 
no  opportunity  of  concerting  measures  with  any  of  the  hareem 
inmates,  and  he  had  been  compelled  to  trust  to  chance.  In 
one  point  he  had  been  fortunate  beyond  his  expectations.  He 
had  been  so  lucky  as  to  obtain  a  sight  of  the  object  of  his  af 
fections,  and  to  assure  himself  that  she  was  in  no  danger  of 
immediate  ill  treatment.  He  saw  her,  not  as  his  imagination 
had  pictured  her,  abandoned  to  grief,  doubt,  and  fear,  but 
calm,  composed,  and  confident.  It  was  the  mien  that  best 
suited  the  high  and  self-relying  spirit  which  had  been  fed  upon 
visions  of  Berber  nationality,  until  it  had  outgrown  all  re 
lation  to  circumstances  and  details,  except  that  of  master 
and  slave ;  and  a  thrill  of  passionate  admiration  quickened  the 
pulses  of  his  heart  as  the  conviction  grew  upcn  him  that 
her  composure  was  the  result  of  confidence  in  him — his  affec 
tion,  his  will,  his  power. 

He  longed  to  apprise  her  of  his  presence,  and,  although  she 
apparently  needed  them  not,  to  whisper  a  few  words  of  hope. 
For  a  moment  he  felt  almost  irresistibly  impelled  to  call  out 
her  name  through  the  loop-hole,  but  the  habitual  prudence  of 


364  THE     BERBER. 

the  chieftain  prevailed  over  the  natural  impetuosity  of  the 
youth  and  the  lover. 

"  No,  no,"  he  muttered.  "  I  will  risk  nothing.  Luckily  it 
is  not  necessary  for  her  sake hers  is  no  whining,  whimper 
ing  nature.  How  beautiful  she  is and  how  queen-like  ! 

She a  girl !  By  heavens  she  shall  become  an  empress  ! 

How  composed  she  sits how  indifferent  she  looks !  She 

gazes  at  that  indecent  posturing,  but  she  sees  it  not.  Ha ! 

she  turns  her  head  !  What  contempt what  scorn  !  By  the 

Virgin  she  adores,  she  is  as  pure  of  soul  as  she  is  lovely  of 
form  and  face  ! 1  should  be  a  fool  to  doubt  it." 

The  sound  of  male  voices  in  loud  conversation  came  from 
the  neighborhood  of  the  hareem  gate.  The  young  prince 
leaped  to  the  ground,  replaced  the  roller,  and  stealing  along 
in  the  shadow  of  the  walls,  threaded  the  intricate  courts  and 
passages  with  a  rapid  step.  He  apprehended  no  obstacle  to 
his  egress,  but  still  he  did  not  feel  easy  until  he  had  passed, 
too  quickly  for  recognition,  or  even  salutation,  the  last  lazy 
sentinel  at  the  palace  gates.  The  sight  <  f  Juanita  had  aroused 
a  full  sense  of  the  value,  to  her,  of  his  personal  freedom ;  and 
love  had  succeeded  in  exciting  a  sensitiveness  to  danger  which 
he  had  never  before  felt,  and  which  the  fate  of  empire,  the 
welfare  of  his  own  tribe,  or  the  natural  love  of  life,  would 
have  failed  to  inspire. 

It  was  with  a  buoyant  spirit  that  he  plunged  into  the  nar 
row  and  crooked  streets,  where,  however,  it  would  take  up  too 
much  of  our  space  to  follow  him  step  by  step. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  305 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 


"  COME  to  prayers  !  Come  to  prayers !"  drawled  the  mu- 
eddens  from  the  tops  of  the  minarets.  The  first  flush  of  dawn 
rapidly  diffused  itself  over  the  eastern  sky.  The  gates  were 
thrown  open,  and  through  the  gaping  portals  poured  a  stream 
of  turbaned  heads,  citizens  and  soldiers,  horse  and  foot,  young 
and  old,  all  rushing  to  the  plain  of  El  Sakel.  Outside  the 
walls  numerous  parties  of  tent-dwellers,  indifferently  mounted 
on  camels,  horses,  and  donkeys,  might  have  been  seen  coming 
from  their  scattered  douahs,  all  wending  their  way  to  the 
scene  of  the  expected  Lab  el  Barode. 

And  well  worth  a  walk  of  ten  or  twelve  miles  was  the 
sight  of  El  Sakel  on  that  morning,  as  twenty  thousand  men 
rose  from  their  night's  bivouac,  and  mounting  their  horses, 
began  careering  across  the  plain — the  only  attempt  at  order 
being  an  effort  on  the  part  of  each  troop  to  keep  as  close  as 
possible  to  its  own  particular  kaid.  As  the  sun  rose,  fresh 
bodies  came  pouring  in  from  the  country  around,  until  full 
thirty  thousand  were  present.  By  eleven  o'clock  in  the  day, 
an  equal  number,  composed  of  mounted  Moors  from  the  city, 
and  Arabs  from  the  tents,  had  assembled,  and  besides  these 
there  were  countless  hosts  of  pedestrians. 


366  THE      BERBER. 

No  spot  of  ground  could  have  been  found  better  adapted 
to  the  review  and  exercise  of  a  large  body  of  cavalry  than 
the  plain  which  had  been  selected.  Three  or  four  miles  in 
length  by  one  in  breadth,  and  perfectly  level,  it  presented  a 
fine  hard,  turfy  surface.  At  the  eastern  side  it  was  crossed  by 
a  slender  tributary  of  the  Ordom,  beyond  which  the  country 
stretched  an  open  plain,  but  comparatively  broken  and  rough, 
to  the  foot  of  the  hills.  At  the  western  extremity  was  a  gentlo 
elevation,  surmounted  by  several  large  tents,  in  the  centre  of 
which,  and  conspicuous  above  all,  stood  the  royal  marquee, 
with  its  silken  curtains  and  its  banners  of  crimson  and  green. 

The  sun  was  within  an  hour  of  the  meridian  before  any 
degree  of  order  began  to  be  evolved  from  the  apparently  inex 
tricable  confusion  prevailing  over  the  ground.  The  discharge 
of  a  small  field  piece  gave  the  signal.  Furiously  the  kaids 
rode  up  and  down,  screaming  their  orders  at  the  top  of  their 
lungs.  Gradually  the  black  troops  began  to  arrange  them 
selves  in  compact  masses  on  one  side,  while  the  Moorish 
horsemen  and  populace  occupied  the  other. 

Suddenly  the  roar  of  artillery,  a  grand  flourish  of  trumpets, 
and  the  crash  of  a  thousand  cymbals  and  kettle  drums  an 
nounced  the  approach  of  the  soltan.  Mounted  upon  a  horse 
magnificently  caparisoned,  and  surrounded  by  a  small  body  of 
richly  dressed  negro  slaves  on  foot,  he  issued  from  the  curtained 
enclosure  of  the  royal  tent,  and  wheeled  into  the  broad  avenue 
formed  by  the  masses  of  soldiers,  citizens,  and  Bedouins. 

The  soltan  himself  was  habited  very  plainly,  in  his  usual 
garb,  a  fine  white  haick  and  a  monstrous  turban  ;  but  gorgeous 
were  the  garments  of  his  attendants.  The  crimson  caftans  of 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  367 

the  body  slaves,  and  executioners,  were  thickly  encristed  with 
the  richest  gold  lace ;  while  their  bare  necks  and  arms  were 
loaded  with  jewelled  chains  and  bracelets.  Two  bearers  on 
either  side  supported,  by  long  poles,  a  large  crimson  umbrella 
over  the  monarch's  head.  Slowly,  and  with  as  pleasant  a 
smile  as  it  was  possible  for  his  toothless  mouth  to  assume,  he 
paced  adown  the  lines.  Two  favorite  kaids  of  the  Soudan 
troops,  with  hands  upon  the  bit,  restrained  the  impatience  of 
the  fiery  steed ;  while,  at  every  three  or  four  steps,  the  slaves 
on  either  side,  turning  to  the  soldiers  and  the  populace,  and 
bowing  low,  exclaimed — 

"  Sidi  is  well  to-day  !" 

"  Sidi  is  well  to-day !"  repeated  the  crowd,  in  slow  and 
measured  tone.  "  Sidi  is  well  to-day  !  Thank  God !  God 
preserve  Sidi !"  at  the  same  time  bending  the  body,  and 
placing  the  hand  upon  the  head.  Again  and  again  was 
the  same  announcement  made,  and  the  same  reply.  At 
first  a  few  voices  took  up  the  words,  and  from  them  they  gra 
dually  spread  to  the  assembled  multitude,  until  they  swelled 
upon  the  ear  like  the  roar  of  the  coming  tornado,  and  then 
died  away  to  the  gentle  murmur  of  the  fitful  breeze. 

Arrived  at  the  further  side  of  the  plain,  and  near  the  banks 
of  the  little  stream  we  have  mentioned,  the  soltan  dismount 
ed.  A  thick  carpet,  or  rug,  was  spread  upon  the  ground,  and 
upon  this  was  placed  a  large,  richly  ornamented,  morocco 
cushion.  Muley  Ismael  seated  himself  upon  the  cushion ; 
his  slaves  and  guards  drew  off  behind  him.  The  principal 
officers  and  dignitaries  arranged  themselves  on  either  hand 
and  a  little  in  the  rear.  Mingled  with  these  were  several 


368  THE     BERBER. 

renegades,  and  the  members  of  a  French  mission  which  had 
recently  arrived  with  propositions  for  the  ransom  of  cer 
tain  slaves.  At  the  feet  of  the  soltan  gambolled  his  favorite 
son — the  child  we  have  before  mentioned — an  infant  of  some 
three  years  of  age,  and  the  only  privileged  intruder  upon  the 
narrow  bounds  of  the  imperial  carpet.  To  many  of  the 
spectators  this  child  was  an  object  of  more  interest  than  any 
thing  else  in  the  pageant.  The  doting  fondness  of  his  father 
was  well  known,  and  by  not  a  few  was  it  surmised  that  the 
desire  to  secure  to  him  the  succession  would  endanger  the 
lives  of  his  elder  brothers  and  their  adherents. 

In  front  of  the  soltan's  position,  and  running  directly  by 
the  edge  of  the  imperial  carpet,  was  a  broad,  firm,  well-trod 
den  piece  of  ground.  No  grass  grew  upon  it ;  every  blade 
having  been  trampled  out  in  the  frequently  repeated  ex 
hibitions  of  equestrian  skill,  of  which  it  had  been  the  scene. 
The  crowding  of  the  troops,  despite  the  desperate  efforts  of 
the  keepers  of  the  ground,  reduced  this  space  to  a  long  narrow 
avenue,  flanked  by  dense  masses  of  horsemen  on  the  one  side, 
with  the  imperial  cortege  and  the  banks  of  the  water  course 
on  the  other.  Luckily  for  the  pedestrians  there  were  at  this 
end  of  the  plain  a  number  of  elevations  that  commanded  a 
view  of  the  ground. 

The  soltan  gave  the  signal  for  the  game  to  begin.  Sepa 
rating  themselves  from  a  body  of  picked  horsemen,  a  small  par 
ty  of  five  or  six,  all  of  whom  were  captains  in  either  the  black 
or  Moorish  troops,  dashed  forward  at  full  speed.  Their  gene 
rous  chargers,  urged  to  the  highest  exertion  by  the  strongly  as 
pirated  "  Ha,  ha !  ha,  ha !"  of  the  riders,  and  the  free  use  of  the 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  369 

cruel  Moorish  spur,  an  instrument  having,  for  rowel,  a  large  iron 
spike  of  from  five  to  eight  inches  in  length,  strained  every 
muscle.     Twirling  their  long   guns  around  their  heads,  the 
horsemen  brought  them  down  with  the  butts  resting  squarely 
against  their  breasts,  and  the  barrels  inclined  downward   over 
the  heads  of  their  steeds.     Upon  reaching  the  spot  where  the 
soltan  was  seated,  and  just  as  they  were  about  to  dash  by  him, 
their  pieces  were  simultaneously  discharged,  and  each  man 
drawing  rein,  the  course  of  their  horses  was  instantaneously 
checked.     With  haunches  almost  touching   the  ground,  and 
quivering  throughout  every  fibre,  from  the  intense  exertion  of 
the  sudden  check  to  which  they  were  forced  by  the  powerful 
Moorish  bit,  they  rested  a  moment;    the    horsemen  threw 
their  muskets  with  a  whirling  motion  into  the  air ;  recovered 
their  horses   with  a  single  demivolte,  and,   wheeling  slowly, 
walked  them  back  to  the  place  from  whence  they  started. 

Another  party  succeeded,  going  through  the  same  evolu 
tions,  and  then  giving  place  to  others  who  rapidly  followed. 
Now  and  then  a  single  horseman  darted  forth,  and  varied  the 
monotony  of  the  game  by  some  extraordinary  display  of 
equestrian  skill,  which  was  always  liberally  rewarded  with 
shouts  of  applause.  Jumping  to  the  ground,  and  again  vault 
ing  to  the  saddle ;  bending  down  and  touching  the  ground, 
and  standing  up  in  the  saddle  at  full  speed,  were  severally  at 
tempted.  These  feats — comparatively  easy  in  the  circus,  where 
the  motion  of  the  horse  is  perfectly  true,  and  where  the  rider 
can  oppose  centrifugal  force  to  the  attraction  of  gravity — are 
known  to  be  extremely  difficult  in  a  straight  course,  especially  the 
\atter  one ;  and  it  was  only  for  a  moment  that  the  boldest  and 

16* 


370  THE     BERBER. 

most  dexterous  of  those  who  attempted  it  could  retain  their 
balance.  They  were  no  sooner  on  their  feet  than  they  were 
compelled  to  sink  again  to  their  seats  in  the  saddle,  or,  as  hap 
pened  in  two  or  three  instances,  be  pitched  headlong  to  the 
ground.  Still,  every  attempt  to  ride  standing  up  in  the  saddle, 
even  at  half  speed,  if  successful  only  for  a  moment,  received 
the  loudest  plaudits  of  the  multitude.  The  same  feat  by 
two  horsemen  riding  together  seemed  to  be  much  more  easi 
ly  performed.  The  reins  being  intertwined  so  as  to  con 
nect  the  horses  by  the  head,  the  riders  stood  up  and  suc 
ceeded  in  balancing  each  other  until  they  reached  the  carpet 
of  the  soltan.  They  were  two  well  known  Arab  kaids  from 
the  province  of  Darah,  celebrated  for  its  horses,  and  the  most 
noted  equestrians  of  their  tribe.  Their  performance  was 
greeted  with  shouts  of  applause.  Again  and  again  they  ran  a 
course,  introducing  a  variety  of  novel  and  difficult  feats; 
changing  horses  at  full  speed ;  lifting  each  other  from  the  sad 
dle;  stooping  to  the  ground;  vaulting  from  side  to  side; 
throwing  themselves  under  the  bodies  of  their  horses,  and 
riding  in  all  manner  of  positions,  which  in  a  straight  wide  course, 
with  the  common  saddle,  is,  as  we  have  said,  incomparably 
more  difficult  than  the  most  striking  triumphs  of  the  amphi 
theatre. 

Of  the  performers  none  seemed  to  enjoy  the  excitement 
more  than  the  horses  themselves,  and  nothing  could  be  more 
striking  than  the  contrast  between  the  languor  with  which, 
when  the  course  was  run,  they  returned  to  the  starting  point, 
and  the  fiery  impatience  evinced  in  every  motion  when  pre 
paring  for  the  start. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  371 

For  two  hours  and  more  an  uninterrupted  succession  of 
"powder  burnings,"  under  the  nose  of  the  soltan,  had  been 
kept  up,  and  the  interest  of  the  performance  was  beginning  to 
abate.  Muley  Isinael's  face  wore  an  air  of  abstraction,  and 
he  began  to  evince  signs  of  restlessness  and  impatience. 
More  than  once  it  was  observed  that  a  sneer  of  contempt 
curled  his  lip.  The  courtiers  noticed  the  look  of  dissatisfac 
tion,  and  earnestly  they  prayed  that  some  better,  or  at  least 
some  bolder  rider,  might  appear,  who  would  divert  the  rising 
wrath  of  the  soltan,  if  only  by  a  desperate  and  mortal  fall. 

It  was  just  at  this  moment  that  there  occurred  a  slight 
pause  in  the  game.  The  eyes  of  the  soltan,  and  those  of  his 
attendants  rolling  in  sycophantic  sympathy  with  his,  were  turn 
ed  aside  in  the  direction  of  the  lower  end  of  the  lists.  Sudden 
ly  a  single  horseman  sprang  into  the  open  place  in  front  of  a 
party  who  were  preparing  to  start.  No  one  could  tell  whence 
or  how  he  came ;  and  no  time  did  the  stranger  give  them  for 
question  or  salutation.  The  beauty  and  spirit  of  the  horse — 
a  tall  jet  black  barb — and  the  graceful  ease  of  the  rider,  ex 
cited  at  the  first  glance  a  glow  of  admiration. 

"  Ha — ha  !  Borcon  !;'  exclaimed  the  horseman,  at  the  same 
moment  slipping  his  feet,  which  were  unencumbered  with 
spurs,  from  the  broad  sharp  cornered  stirrups,  and  springing 
erect  to  the  saddle.  The  gallant  barb  at  the  word  sprang 
forward  as  if  a  thousand  spurs  were  goading  him.  Firmly 
and  gracefully  his  rider  stood ;  one  foot  on  the  saddle,  the 
other  extended  in  the  air  ;  his  left  hand  grasping  the  rein,  his 
right  raised  aloft,  with  his  polished  musket  twirling  horizon 
tally  by  the  mere  motion  of  the  fingers,  and  so  rapidly  that 
it  presented  the  appearance  of  a  wheel. 


372  THE     BERBER. 

As  the  head  of  the  barb  came  on  a  line  with  the  imperial 
carpet,  his  course  was  instantaneously  arrested.  So  sudden 
and  so  complete  was  the  check  that  he  did  not  even  pass  the 
carpet,  but  sliding  along  a  few  feet  with  his  haunches  to  the 
ground,  brought  his  rider  right  abreast  of  the  soltan.  The 
horseman  leaped  lightly  from  the  crouching  steed,  and  bending 
down  touched  the  edge  of  the  carpet,  put  his  hand  to  his  lips, 
and  instantly  sprung  back  with  his  feet  to  the  saddle,  when  he 
stood  erect  for  a  moment,  and  then  quietly  sank  to  his  seat, 
wheeled  his  horse  and  leisurely  walked  him  back  to  the  end 
of  the  course. 

Sixty  thousand  voices  rent  the  air  with  a  simultaneous 
shout  of  applause.  Never  had  such  a  course  been  run  in  Mo 
rocco.  Never  before  had  such  a  position  been  assumed  with 
such  boldness,  or  maintained  with  such  firmness  and  grace,  or 
finished  with  such  precision  and  agility.  Muley  Ismael  straight 
ened  himself  up — glanced  at  the  French  ambassador  and  his 
suite,  grinned  graciously  upon  his  attendants,  and  allowed  se 
veral  expressions  of  commendation  to  escape  him.  "  Excel 
lent  !  Wonderful !  Well  done  !  Thank  God  there  is  one  man 
here  to-day  who  knows  how  to  ride  !" 

The  deliberate  pace  at  which  the  horseman  returned  to  the 
starting  place,  afforded  all  eyes  a  good  "opportunity  of  scan 
ning  his  dress  and  person.  As  to  his  features,  they  were  near 
ly  concealed  by  the  ends  of  his  turban,  which  with  apparent 
carelessness  were  allowed  to  hang  down  on  each  side  of  his 
face ;  but  no  outer  garment  concealed  the  proportions  of  his 
fine  figure.  A  close-fitting  caftan,  or  vest,  of  red  cloth,  over  a 
shirt  of  linen,  and  a  pair  of  short  wide  white  linen  trousers, 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  373 

set  off  and  revealed  his  light  but  muscular  form  to  the  best 
advantage. 

But  not  less  worthy  of  admiration  was  the  horse  than 
the  rider,  particularly  to  judges  of  the  animal,  of  whom  there 
were  not  a  few  on  the  giound.  The  fine  points  of  Boroon  were 
noted  and  eagerly  commented  upon.  His  jet  black  skin,  imma 
culate  from  color,  except  where  his  wide  expanded  nostrils  ex 
posed  a  delicate  circle  of  pink.  His  small  but  long  head, 
gracefully  placed  at  the  end  of  a  tapering,  tendinous,  and 
slightly  arched  neck  ;  his  height — nearly  sixteen  hands ;  his 
broad  chest ;  his  oblique  muscular  shoulders  ;  his  fine  sinewy 
legs  ;  long  withy  pastern,  and  the  huge  veins,  lying  just  beneath 
the  skin,  and  showing  that  a  large  part  of  his  circulation  was 
carried  on  over  the  surface,  and,  therefore,  not  liable  to  be 
hurried  by  the  compression  of  contracting  muscles;  together 
with  twenty  other  marks  and  points  of  more  fanciful  signifi 
cance,  were  loudly  indicated  by  the  excited  crowd,  as  with 
loosened  rein,  hanging  head,  and  a  composed  step,  he  bore  his 
master  back  to  the  starting  point. 

Not  a  look  did  the  latter  bestow  upon  the  multitude.  His 
whole  attention  seemed  given  to  his  horse.  Leaning  forward 
he  patted  his  neck,  pulled  his  ears,  and  caressed  him  in  a  va- 
ri  ty  of  ways,  at  the  same  time  addressing  to  him,  in  a  low 
tone,  words  of  the  most  affectionate  endearment. 

"  Oh  !  Boroon  !"  he  exclaimed.  "  Son  of  the  Beautiful ! 

Breath  of  the  east  wind  !  Be  true  to  me  to-day fail  me 

not,  for  great  is  my  strait,  and  sore  would  be  my  trouble,  did 
I  not  depend  upon  thee  !  Quietly.  Boroon ! — save  thy  courage 
for  the  time  of  need it  is  at  hand.  Oh  !  Boroou  !  fail  me 


374  THE      BERBER. 

not,  and  her  hand  shall  caress  thee — her  voice  shall  cheer 
thee  !  I  swear  it,  son  of  the  Beautiful !" 

Boroon  replied  to  his  master's  words  with  an  expansion  of 
the  nostrils,  and  a  low  snuffle  of  delight ;  but  he  raised  not  his 
head,  nor  altered  his  gait,  until  he  wheeled  with  his  head 
pointing  up  the  lists.  Then  indeed  his  whole  manner  changed. 
His  head  was  erect,  his  eyes  flashed  fire,  his  breath  was  blown 
from  his  nostrils  with  a  furious  snort  of  impatience,  the  foam 
flew  from  his  mouth,  and  every  muscle  quivered  with  excite 
ment  ;  but  still  he  stirred  not. 

The  shouts  and  exclamations  subsided — a  deep  silence  pre 
vailed  throughout  the  multitude. 

"  Ha — ha !  Boroon !"  exclaimed  his  master,  and  with  a 
spring,  light  as  that  of  a  wild  cat,  the  fiery  animal  started. 

With  a  loud  shout  the  horseman  tossed  his  musket  high  in 
the  air,  caught  it  as  it  descended,  and  instantly  stooping  from 
his  saddle,  placed  it  upon  the  ground.  As  he  rose,  he  bent 
down  again  on  the  other  side,  touching  the  ground  with  his 
left  hand.  Again  rising,  he  descended  to  the  right,  and  so  on 
alternately,  a  dozen  times,  in  rapid  succession,  each  time  grasp 
ing  the  soil,  and  scattering  it  in  the  faces  of  the  nearest  sol 
diers.  Arrived  at  the  soltan's  carpet,  he  checked  his  steed 
again  within  a  few  feet  of  the  edge — recovered  him  the  next 
instant,  and  then  forcing  him  into  a  series  of  lofty  croupades 
and  curvets,  marked  with  the  sharp  corner  of  his  wide  shovel- 
shaped  stirrup-iron  the  initials  of  the  soltan's  name. 

There  was  an  instant's  pause,  and  then  such  a  shout  went 
up  as  had  never  before  echoed  over  the  plain  of  El  Sakel. 
Muley  Ismael  smiled,  and  again  applauded ;  the  royal  atten- 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  375 

dants  were  of  course  vociferous,  and  swelled  with  their  voices 
the  roar  of  the  soldiers  and  the  populace.  Even  the  sleepy 
little  Muley  Abderrhaman  sprang  to  his  feet  at  the  front  of  the 
carpet,  and  joined  his  childish  cries  to  the  rest.  The  letters 
were  large,  and  scored  roughly  on  the  smooth  shining  flanks 
of  Boroon,  were  visible  to  all  except  the  more  distant  spec 
tators  in  the  field. 

Once  more  all  sounds  were  hushed.  The  horses,  even, 
seemed  to  partake  of  the  sensation,  and  ceased  their  champing 
and  pawing.  Again  the  strange  horseman  commenced  a  ca 
reer,  but  not  with  the  same  reckless  impetuosity.  It  was  ob 
served  that  his  steed,  although  plunging  furiously,  was  kept 
well  in  hand,  and  all  eyes  followed,  with  intense  interest,  his 
every  movement.  He  passed  his  gun  without  stooping  to 
pick  it  up.  What  could  he  be  going  to  do  1  Silence ! — hush ! 
— not  a  whisper !  His  horse  swerved  violently  from  side  to 
side.  Expectation  was  excited  to  the  utmost.  He  was  evi 
dently  preparing  for  something  desperate.  Some  daring  feat ; 
and  novel  too,  thought  the  crowd  ;  else  why  move  so  slowly  ? 
and  why  such  an  air  of  preparation  ?  The  course  was  almost 
finished.  He  was  nearly  abreast  of  the  seat  of  the  soltan, 
when  suddenly  his  horse  swerved  violently  to  one  side,  bring- 
his  hoofs  on  to  the  very  edge  of  the  imperial  carpet.  At  this 
moment  it  was  observed  that  the  horseman  held  a  paper, 
which,  bowing  himself  from  his  saddle,  he  threw  into  the  lap 
of  Muley  Ismael.  At  the  same  instant,  with  a  rapid  sweep  of 
his  arm,  he  seized  the  young  Muley  Abderrhaman.  Clutching 
the  child  by  the  clothes,  the  horseman  swung  him  to  his  sad 
dle-bow;  growling,  while  bending  over  him  in  the  act,  almost 


376  THE     BERBER. 

in  the  ears  of  the  astonished  father,  in  the  deep  guttural  of  the 
Arabic. 

"  Look  to  the  paper,  and  when  you  want  him,  send  to  Gas- 
bin  Subah !" 

Wheeling  his  horse  short  round,  the  Berber  leaped  a  corner 
of  the  royal  carpet,  knocking  over  one  of  the  umbrella  bearers, 
and  dashing  through  the  shrinking  slaves  in  the  rear  of  the  sol- 
tan.  In  a  moment  he  was  at  the  banks  of  the  shallow  stream, 
down  which  his  steed  scrambled  with  cat-like  agility.  A  few 
jumps  cleared  the  narrow  bed ;  and  then,  breasting  him  by 
main  force  through  a  thicket  of  oleanders,  the  other  bank  was 
gained,  and  the  gallant  animal,  with  loosened  rein,  was  skim 
ming  the  plain  in  the  direction  of  the  hills,  with  a  stride  as 
steady,  and  almost  as  rapid  as  the  sweep  of  an  eagle. 

For  a  few  minutes  the  soltan,  his  officers,  and  slaves,  were 
lost  in  astonishment.  Stupified  at  the  audacity  of  the  act, 
they  stood  as  if  doubting  the  evidence  of  their  senses.  In  sixty 
thousand  minds  arose,  simultaneously,  an  idea  of  djins,  or  of 
Ebliss  himself.  The  soltan  was  the  first  to  recover  himself.  He 
knew  that  the  daring  rider  was  no  djin,  and  he  bounded  to  his 
feet  convulsed  with  rage  and  fear. 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  fully  the  scene  of  confusion 
that  followed.  The  whole  field  was  in  commotion.  Troop 
pressed  upon  troop.  The  masses  swayed  backward  and  for 
ward,  and  orders,  execrations  and  cries  of  pain  made  a  terri 
ble  chorus  with  the  stamping  and  snorting  of  steeds,  and  the 
clashing  of  muskets  and  sabres.  Muley  Ismael,  crazy  with 
passion,  drew  his  cimeter,  and  for  a  moment  laid  about  him 
in  every  direction.  He  voiciferated  for  his  horse ;  tore  his 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  377 

beard ;  dashed  his  turban  to  the  ground,  and  shouted  like  one 
possessed,  his  orders  for  instant  pursuit. 

The  very  ardor  of  the  troops  prevented  these  orders  from 
being  early  obeyed,  and  before  the  masses  of  cavalry  could 
extricate  themselves  from  the  confusion,  into  which  they  had 
been  thrown  by  the  effort  of  all  to  be  first  in  the  chase,  the 
Berber  had  been  able  to  gain  a  start  of  more  than  a  mile. 

At  length  the  Moors  and  blacks  got  under  way.  The 
little  stream  was  something  of  an  obstacle,  but  at  various 
points  it  was  quickly  overcome.  Over  it  poured  the  excited 
crowd,  until  more  than  thirty  thousand  horse  thundered  over 
the  plain,  gradually  extending  themselves  in  long  lines,  as  the 
relative  difference  in  the  speed  of  their  horses  began  to  exhi 
bit  itself. 

Soon  those  who  lagged  the  most  began  to  rein  up,  until 
ere  two  leagues  had  been  passed  the  body  of  the  pursuers 
were  reduced  to  a  few  score  of  the  best  mounted,  whose  pure 
blooded,  thorough-bred  steeds  enabled  them  to  keep  together, 
and  also  to  slowly,  but  certainly  gain  upon  the  Berber,  whoso 
horse  labored  under  the  terrible  disadvantage  of  the  additional 
weight  of  the  child. 


378  THE     BERBER. 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 


WE  left  the  kaid  Abdallah  and  his  party  snugly  sheltered 
within  the  ruins.  By  blocking  up  the  only  entrance,  except 
over  the  crumbling  walls,  their  horses  were  allowed  the  privi 
lege  of  roaming  the  area,  without  any  danger  of  wandering 
wide,  and  a  protection  was  also  afforded  against  wild  animals 
from  without.  Additional  security  in  this  respect  was  obtain 
ed  from  a  fire  of  dried  bushes,  which  was  kept  up  during  the 
night.  No  djins  disturbed  their  repose  ;  but  the  whole  party 
was  kept  pretty  much  on  the  alert  by  the  gliding  about  among 
the  fallen  columns  within  the  enclosure  of  small  animals  and 
serpents,  the  fluttering  of  bats,  and  the  hooting  of  owls,  while 
from  the  outside  came  the  cry  of  the  jackall,  and  several 
times  during  the  course  of  the  night,  the  thundering  roar  of  the 
lion,  echoing  and  re-echoing  among  the  loftier  crags  of  the 
mountains. 

With  the  darkness  all  apprehensions  fled.  Morning  came, 
and  with  it  a  sense  of  security,  shared  by  the  calm,  cool,  self- 
possessed  rais,  his  gallant  brother,  and  the  philosophic  kaid, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  two  maidens  and  the  frightened  Fatima, 
who  had  more  than  once  disturbed  the  party  with  a  yell  of 


A      TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  379 

terror  at  sight  of  Ebliss,  or  one  of  his  imps,  peering  at  her 
from  the  bushes. 

The  morning  passed  pleasantly  and  rapidly.  Four  of  the 
party  were  in  love — deeply  in  love.  What  occupation  or 
amusement,  besides  loving,  is  in  such  a  case  required  ?  In 
free  communion  with  the  object  of  the  passion — bathing,  and 
revelling,  and  melting  in  the  light  and  warmth  of  his  or  her 
presence — loving  and  beloved — love  is  life,  existence,  time, 
the  world,  heaven,  all,  everything !  Sensation  is  merged  in 
the  ocean  of  sentiment.  Individuality  loses  itself  amid  the 
exhilarating  fumes  of  excited  fancy.  Memory  and  fear, 
like  night  and  the  dew,  flee  before  the  hot  burning  sun  of  pas 
sion.  The  past  and  the  future  are  swallowed  up  in  the  present 
— all  nature  is  as  it  were  interpenetrated  and  surrounded  by  a 
luminous  atmosphere  of  delight.  But,  alas  !  for  the  uncer 
tainty  and  shortness  of  human  happiness !  The  ocean  will 
dry  up — the  fumes  will  vanish — the  sun  will  set — memory  and 
fear  will  return — and,  except  in  a  few  rare  cases,  the  lovers 
will  pass  their  perihelium,  like  comets,  with  terrible  rapidity, 
and  go  off,  absorbing  and  condensing  the  luminous  atmosphere 
into  which  the  heat  of  love  had  expanded  the  nucleus  of  self. 

But  with  these  latter  changes  we  have,  luckily,  nothing 
to  do.  The  sun  of  our  lovers  was  just  on  the  meridian  ;  the 
ocean  of  sentiment  in  full  flow,  and,  as  we  have  said,  the  morn 
ing  passed  rapidly  and  pleasantly.  Abdallah,  with  the  cha 
racteristic  patience  and  gravity  of  his  countrymen,  sat  with  his 
feet  drawn  under  him,  quietly  ruminating  or  dozing,  while  Fa- 
tima,  selecting  the  smoothest  block  of  stone,  stretched  herself 
apon  it  in  the  full  sunlight,  and  sought  the  sleep  of  which  she 


380  THE     BERBER. 

had  been  robbed  during  the  night  by  the  djins.  Xaripha  and 
her  lover  strolled  around  the  enclosure,  clambered  over  the 
ruins,  examined  several  narrow  passages  and  corridors,  the 
arches  of  which  were  still  remaining,  and  at  length  mounting 
the  western  rampart,  joined  the  rais  and  Isabel,  who  had  se 
cured  a  position  that  commanded  a  view  over  the  vast  plain 
stretching  below  them. 

The  sight  of  the  distant  minarets  of  Mequinez  brought 
the  sad  fate  of  Juanita  more  strongly  to  mind,  and  it  needed 
the  continual  assurances  of  the  rais  to  satisfy  Isabel  that  she 
would  receive  good  news  from  her  sister  by  the  Berber. 

The  time  for  the  arrival  of  the  famous  chief,  on  whom  all 
hopes  of  the  young  Gaditana's  safety  now  rested,  began  to 
approach.  The  sun  had  declined  several  hours  from  the  meri 
dian.  The  eyes  of  the  party  were  directed  down  the  declivity, 
and  across  the  level  country  towards  the  field  of  El  Sakel, 
when  suddenly  an  exclamation  from  Xaripha  called  attention 
to  a  body  of  horsemen,  which,  in  straining  their  sight  to  the 
distant  camp,  the  rais  and  his  brother  had  overlooked.  Ap 
pearing  at  first  like  diminutive  specks,  they  each  moment 
grew  larger  and  more  distinct,  an  indication  to  the  brothers 
of  their  course,  and  the  speed  with  which  it  was  pursued.  A 
short  half  hour  brought  them  fully  into  view,  when  the  rais, 
with  the  long  and  trained  sight  of  the  sailor,  could  plainly 
perceive  a  single  horseman  bearing  something  in  his  arms,  and 
urging  his  steed  to  the  utmost,  followed,  at  the  distance  of  a 
few  hundred  yards,  by  a  dozen  others,  who  were  slowly  gain 
ing  upon  him. 

Isabel  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  seized  the  arm  of  the  rais. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  381 

"'Tisthe  Berber,"  she  exclaimed,  "and  he  is  bringing  my 
sister  with  him  !  Say,  is  it  not  so  1  Oh,  merciful  God !  they 
will  overtake  him !" 

"  No,"  returned  the  rais,  straining  his  eyes,  "  it  is  not — 
it  cannot  be  your  sister.  The  burden  he  bears  is  too  small ; 
and  besides,  there  never  lived  a  horse  that  could  carry  such 
a  weight  in  such  a  race.  What  can  it  be  1  'Tis  the  Berber 
surely.  By  Allah,  they  gain  upon  him  !  They  are  bold  riders 
and  good  horses  behind  him." 

"  But  they  are  nearly  blown,"  exclaimed  Edward.  "  See  ! 
their  riders  lift  them  over  the  ground  by  main  strength.  Let 
us  to  horse  and  make  a  diversion.  Perhaps  our  appearance 
will  frighten  them  off." 

The  rais  glanced  at  the  unsaddled  and  picketed  horses, 
and  shaking  his  head,  turned  again  to  the  chase.  The  ascent 
began  to  be  more  steep,  and  the  difference  in  weight  between 
pursuers  and  pursued,  to  tell  still  more  fearfully  against  the 
latter. 

"  Santa  Maria  purissimaf  he  can't  escape !"  exclaimed  Isa 
bel,  sinking  to  the  ground,  and  covering  her  face  with  her  hands. 

"  Oh,  Prophet  of  God  !"  shouted  the  rais.  "He  can't  es 
cape  !  Why  don't  he  throw  away  his  load  ]  The  man  is  mad  ! 
Ha !  I  see !  'Tis  a  child.  Spur !  spur !  drive  the  rowels  in 
him !  Allah,  most  merciful !  aid  him  !" 

"  Spur !  spur !"  exclaimed  Edward,  mad  with  excitement. 
"  Drive  the  rowels  into  him !  By  heaven,  they  are  upon  you  ! 
Ha !  well  done !"  he  shouted,  as  the  horseman  dexterously 
recovered  his  fallen  steed.  "  Hold  out  to  the  thickets,  and 
you  may  go  clear." 


382  THE     BERBER. 

"  He  cannot  do  it,"  whispered  Abdallah,  breathless  with 
excitement,  and  the  exertion  of  springing  up  to  the  parapet. 
"  They  gain  upon  him  too  rapidly.  He  can  barely  cross  the 
bridge,  unless  he  throws  away  his  load.  He  is  lost!  By 
Allah,  he  is  lost !" 

"  No,"  shouted  Xaripha,  starting  and  throwing  aside  her 
haick.  "  Never !  It  shall  not  be.  To  the  bridge !  quick ! 
To  the  bridge  !" 

As  she  spoke  she  seized  the  hilt  of  her  father's  cimeter, 
and  drawing  it  from  its  sheath,  darted  with  the  glittering  blade 
in  her  hand  to  the  gateway  of  the  ruins.  With  the  impulsive 
promptitude  of  a  lover,  Edward  was  the  first  to  comprehend 
and  follow  her  movements.  He  sprang  after  her,  but  ere  he 
had  issued  from  the  archway  Xaripha  was  half  way  down  to 
the  bridge.  The  remaining  more  open  and  level  space  she 
passed  as  if  with  wings.  Her  tight-fitting  caftan  and  short 
skirt  afforded  every  facility  to  the  motions  of  her  well-turned 
limbs.  Her  long  hair  floated  in  a  cloud  of  ringlets  behind 
her,  and  her  slippered  feet  seemed  scarcely  to  touch  the 
ground.  But  rapid  as  were  her  motions,  ere  she  reached  the 
bridge  she  was  overtaken  by  her  lover.  "  Xaripha !"  he  madly 
shouted,  "  Hold !  Give  me  the  sword.  I  will  defend  the 
passage  though  they  were  a  thousand.  Back  to  the  ruins. 
Give  me  the  sword  and  leave  me." 

Xaripha  had  but  obeyed  the  first  impulse  of  her  woman's 
wit,  without  considering  the  danger,  or  her  lack  of  the  requi 
site  strength.  She  felt  the  hot  breath  of  her  lover  on  her 
cheek,  and  his  touch  upon  her  shoulder,  and  overcome  by 
excitement  and  exertion,  she  stopped  and  sank  to  the  ground. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  383 

"  No,  no,"  she  exclaimed,  breathlessly.  "  Defend  not  the 
bridge !  Cut  the  cords  behind  the  Berber !  Quick  !  Away  !" 

Edward  seized  the  sword.  An  impatient  gesture  from 
Xaripha  permitted  no  pause,  even  had  he  been  disposed  to 
make  one.  With  a  bound  he  reached  the  bridge.  The  Berber 
was  but  a  few  yards  on  the  other  side.  His  laboring  horse, 
struggling  upward  slowly,  but  with  that  determined  courage 
and  perseverance,  which,  as  much  or  more  than  physical  pow 
er,  characterizes  in  all  animals  the  pure-blooded,  thorough 
bred.  Xaripha,  having  recovered  her  breath,  sprang  to  her 
feet.  She  waved  her  hands.  She  shouted  and  gesticulated — 

"  Come  on !  come  on  !  Ha !  Have  a  care.  They  are 
close  upon  you.  Spur,  spur !  A  few  steps  more  and  you  are 
safe.  Oh,  Prophet  of  God,  help  !  help  !" 

The  Berber  glances  up  to  the  young  girl.  It  seems  to  him 
the  vision  of  an  angel.  Both  man  and  steed  gather  fresh  en 
ergy  from  her  encouraging  shouts.  Boroon  lengthens  his 
stride,  and  gathers  himself  more  quickly.  For  a  moment  he 
gains  rapidly  on  his  pursuers.  A  few  jumps,  and  the  foot  of 
the  faltering  steed  is  upon  the  bridge.  The  Moors  are  not 
fifty  yards  in  the  rear.  The  bridge  is  passed,  and  on  the  in 
stant  the  cimeter  in  the  hands  of  the  young  Englishman 
swings  in  the  air.  As  the  hoofs  of  Boroon  strike  the  last 
plank,  the  keen  blade  falls  on  the  tightened  cords.  Again  and 
again ;  and  quick  as  thought  the  cords  are  severed,  and  the 
bridge  hangs  dangling  into  the  abyss.  The  Moors  are  at  the 
yawning  gulf.  With  difficulty  do  they  save  themselves  from 
going  over  into  it.  With  difficulty  are  their  trained  horses 
checked  upon  the  brink  of  the  precipice,  from  the  very  edge 


384  THE     BERBER. 

of  which  their  hoofs  topple  down  earth  and  stones,  as  they 
crouch  to  the  desperate  strain  of  the  cruel  curb. 

Casbin  threw  himself  from  his  horse,  tossed  the  wearied 
child  into  the  arms  of  Xaripha,  and  then,  darting  back,  seized 
Edward  by  the  arm,  and  hurried  him  a  few  steps  up  the 
ascent. 

"  Some  of  those  fellows  have  guns,"  he  exclaimed ;  "  and 
it  is  better  to  put  these  rocks  between  us  and  them.  They 
did  not  dare  fire  at  me  for  fear  of  hitting  the  child,  but  they 
will  make  a  target  of  you  if  you  wait  till  they  recover  their 
wits  and  their  breath.  But  here  we  are  perfectly  safe,  and  can 
afford  to  laugh  at  their  beards." 

"  But  what  if  they  should  cross  the  ravine  ?"  said  Edward. 

"  No  danger  of  that,"  replied  Casbin,  leisurely  ungirthing 
Boroon's  saddle,  and  wiping  the  foam  from  his  sides  and 
limbs  with  a  bunch  of  leaves.  "  They  cannot  cross  save  by 
a  midnight  ride  around  through  a  rough  country  for  horsemen. 
They  will  not  think  of  it.  But  it  was  a  lucky  thought,  that  of 
cutting  away  the  bridge,  and  well  and  promptly  executed.  I 
owe  you  many  thanks." 

"  Not  mine  was  the  thought,"  returned  Edward.  "  Your 
thanks  are  due  to  this  maiden." 

"  Ha !"  exclaimed  the  Berber.  "  Is  that  so  ?  Indeed,  I 
have  not  done  women's  wit  justice.  I  supposed  there  was  but 
one  who  could  have  thought  of  such  a  thing ;  but  she,  I  doubt 
not,"  continued  the  young  man,  speaking  to  himself,  "  could 
have  executed  it  as  well." 

Advancing  to  Xaripha,  he  seized  her  hand.  "  A  thousand 
thanks,  fair  maiden.  You  have  saved— not  rny  life ;  that  was 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  385 

hardly  in  danger,  for  I  should  have  reached  these  thickets ; 
where,  on  foot,  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  overtake  me ; 
but  you  have  saved  what  I  value  as  my  own  life ;  you  have 
saved  Boroon.  I  should  have  been  compelled  to  abandon  him, 
and  the  vile  Moors  would  have  curried  off  the  son  of  el  Has- 
saneh." 

"  A  gallant  steed  indeed,"  replied  Edward,  "  to  carry  over 
weight  in  front  of  such  horses  as  followed  you.  But  tell  us  of 
the  race.  We  have  watched  your  course  for  the  last  half 
hour,  but  we  saw  nothing  of  the  start." 

The  Berber  uttered  a  scornful  laugh,  and  turning,  laid  his 
hand  impressively  upon  Edward's  arm.  "  Your  words  mean 
well,  but  if  I  should  translate  them  into  Amazerg,  or  Arabic, 
they  would  offend  Boroon.  Luckily,  he  does  not  understand 
Spanish.  Think  you  that  he  would  mind  the  additional  weight 
of  that  child,  overwhelming  as  it  would  be  to  a  common  horse, 
in  a  fair  race  writh  anything  of  his  kind  in  Morocco  ?  Know, 
oh,  brother  of  my  friend  !  that  Boroon  started  with  thirty  thou 
sand  at  his  heels.  His  feet  had  swallowed  more  than  half 
the  ground  between  this  and  Sakel,  and  the  longest  winded  of 
his  pursuers  were  blown — dead  beaten,  when,  unluckily,  we 
encountered  a  body  of  fresh  horse.  They  took  up  the  chase. 
Their  steeds  were  good,  and  Boroon  is  mortal,  and  so  they 
gained  upon  him.  And  again  I  thank  yon  maiden  that  they 
did  not  capture  him." 

The  kaid,  accompanied  by  the  rais,  assisting  Isabel  down 
the  declivity,  now  appeared.  At  sight  of  her  Casbin  took  the 
child  in  his  arms,  and  turned  towards  her.  Isabel,  pale  and 

trembling,  was  too  excited  to  speak. 
17 


THE     BERBER. 

"  I  promised,  senorita,  that  I  would  bring  you  news  of  your 
sister.  I  do  so,  and  good  news  too.  I  have  seen  her." 

Isabel  gasped  for  breath. 

"Where  is  shel"  she  exclaimed,  as  she  recovered  her 
voice.  "  Did  she  come  with  you  ?  Has  she  escaped  1  Oh, 
tell  me !" 

"  Calm  yourself,  senorita.  I  have  seen  her ;  but  she  saw 
me  not,  and  I  spoke  not  with  her.  But  you  may  believe  me 
when  I  say  that  she  is  well ;  well  in  health  and  spirits ;  and 
that  she  is  in  no  danger  of  ill  treatment  of  any  kind." 

"  But  when  shall  I  see  her  again  ?" 

"  In  three  days  at  farthest." 

"Are  you  sure  ?     Oh,  deceive  me  not." 

"This  child  is  full  security  for  her  safety  and  freedom. 
I  confide  him  to  your  care ;  he  is  a  precious  hostage.  But 
come,  I  see  you  all  look  anxious  and  inquisitive ;  let  us  into 
the  palace  of  the  djins.  When  I  have  thoroughly  groomed 
Boroon,  I  will  tell  you  of  my  adventure." 

The  day  drew  to  a  close :  night  came  on  ;  and  again  was 
the  fire  kindled,  and  supper  prepared ;  after  which  the  events 
of  the  day  were  thoroughly  discussed.  Casbin  drew  a  vivid 
sketch  of  the  Lab  el  Barode.  He  enumerated  the  feats  of 
equestrian  skill — described  the  array  of  the  soltan  and  court ; 
the  appearance  of  the  troops ;  and  pictured  in  a  humorous 
light,  and  with  a  certain  degree  of  boyish  glee,  the  consterna 
tion  and  confusion  that  reigned  behind  as  he  launched  out  for 
the  hills. 

Upon  one  point,  however,  his  manner  was  unusually  close 
and  guarded.  He  was  sufficiently  free  in  his  assurances  of 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  387 

Juanita's  health  and  safety ;  but  he  adroitly  avoided  all  ques 
tions  as  to  the  details  of  his  visit.  There  were  feelings  con 
nected  with  that  visit  that  he  did  not  care  to  have  probed. 

It  was  quite  late  when  Casbin  rose ;  and  commending  Bo- 
roon  and  the  young  Muley  Abderrhaman  to  the  care  of  the 
brothers  and  the  maidens,  intimated  a  necessity  for  his  depar 
ture.  He  promised  to  be  with  them  again  at  early  dawn, 
when  he  would  give  them  directions  as  to  their  future  move 
ments.  The  brothers  accompanied  him  to  the  entrance  of  the 
ruins,  which  they  secured  behind  him,  and  then  made  their 
preparations  for  another  watchful  but  less  anxious  night ;  while 
the  Berber,  tightening  his  girdle,  and  carrying  his  short 
straight  sword  in  his  hand,  in  readiness  for  any  adventurous 
animal,  pursued  his  way  up  the  mountain  side  with  a  step  as 
firm  and  unhesitating  as  if  it  had  been  in  broad  day. 


388  THE     BERBER. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 


UPON  the  breast  of  Isabel  the  little  Muley  Abderrhaman 
forgot  the  fatigues  of  his  desperate  ride  ;  and  a  night's  sound 
sleep,  from  which  he  awoke  only  to  the  caresses  of  the  mai 
dens,  soothed  his  grief  and  calmed  his  fears.  Boroon,  too, 
seemed  none  the  worse  for  his  exertions.  With  head  erect, 
and  expanded  nostril,  he  saluted  the  rising  sun  with  a  succes 
sion  of  vigorous  neighs.  Stamping  the  ground  in  pride  of  re 
covered  strength ;  with  bristling  mane  and  arched  tail,  and  eye 
flashing,  bright,  fiery  as  the  gleam  of  sunbeams  from  a  Damas 
cus  cimeter,  he  seemed  to  wish  to  challenge  the  whole  world 
of  horses  to  another  trial  of  speed  and  wind. 

"  Ha  !  Boroon !  Brave  Boroon !  Thy  pride  has  come  to 
thee  with  the  morning — thy  strength  is  renewed  by  the  dawn. 
What  would'st  thou  have?  Would'st  run  with  the  sun1? 
Would'st  thou  race  with  the  light  ? — for  no  mortal  horse  is 
thy  match,  oh,  thou  son  of  El  Hassaneh !" 

While  speaking  the  Berber  entered  the  ruins,  and  with 
him  an  attendant,  bearing  a  bag  of  dates  and  a  skin-full  of  ca 
mel's  milk.  But  it  was  with  evident  reluctance,  notwithstand 
ing  the  daylight  and  the  presence  of  his  master,  that  the  man 
set  his  foot  within  the  castle  of  the  Komi,  and,  with  a  sharp 
look-out  for  djins,  proceeded  to  feed  and  groom  the  spirited 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  889 

Boroon.  It  was  not  until  this  latter  operation  had  been 
finished  to  his  satisfaction,  that  the  young  prince  turned  to 
speak  to  the  kaid  and  his  party. 

"Pardon  me,"  he  exclaimed,  "  if  I  seem  to  pay  more 
attention  to  Boroon  than  to  such  honored  guests." 

"  No  excuses,"  interrupted  the  kaid.  "  We  all  know  the 
proverb — '  The  condition  of  the  steed  is  often  the  life  of  the 
rider.'  Boroon  deserves  your  care." 

"  He  does,"  returned  Casbin ;  "  but  that  should  not  hin 
der  the  politeness  due  from  a  host.  You  are  now  my  guests ; 
you  have  entered  upon  my  territories  ;  although  this  is  some 
what  of  a  debateable  ground  between  yonder  soltan  and  my 
self.  These  ruins  are  mine — mine  by  right  of  conquest.  The 
castle  was  built  by  the  Romans  to  overawe  and  block  up  the 
Beni  Mozarg.  My  ancestors  were  compelled  to  endure  it  for 
a  century,  when  they  took  it,  and  left  it  as  you  see.  Since 
then  neither  Vandal  nor  Saracen  has  dared  to  attempt  its 
restoration.  It  has  scanty  accommodation  for  ladies,"  conti 
nued  the  Berber,  turning  to  Xaripha  and  Isabel ;  "  and  sorry  I 
am  to  say  that  I  am  afraid  you  will  have  to  pass  another  night 
within  it." 

"  Is  there  no  danger  of  a  visit  from  any  of  the  troops 
below,"  demanded  the  rais.  "  True,  the  bridge  is  destroyed  ; 
but  is  it  not  possible  for  foot  soldiers  to  find  their  way 
across  V9 

"  Have  no  apprehension.  I  have  taken  all  precautions 
against  surprise.  As  to  a  message  from  the  emperor's  camp, 
I  expect  it.  Even  now  there  is  a  troop  of  horse  approaching, 
but  they  bear  a  white  flag,  and  come  as  friends." 


390  THE     BERBER. 

"  Do  they  bring  Juanita  with  them  !"  eagerly  demanded 
Isabel. 

"  I  hope  not,"  replied  Casbin,  "poor  girl !  She  will  have 
had  a  hard  night's  ride  if  they  have  brought  her  all  the  way 
from  the  city.  No ;  she  may  be  now  in  the  camp  at  El  Sakel, 
but  she  can  hardly  be  with  this  party  who  are  advancing. 
Let  us  to  the  rampart  and  watch  them.  They  must  now  be 
fully  within  view." 

The  Berber  led  the  way  to  the  point  from  which  his  own 
movements  had  been  overlooked  the  day  before.  The  party 
of  Moorish  horse  were  distinctly  visible,  but  nothing  like  a 
female  form  could  be  seen. 

In  a  short  time  they  were  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of 
the  ravine ;  and  the  Berber  proposed  to  go  out  and  receive 
them.  He  directed  all  to  envelope  their  faces  in  their  haicks 
and  the  hoods  of  their  djelabeahs,  so  as  not  to  be  recognized, 
and  taking  the  child  in  his  arms  he  led  the  party  down  the 
path  from  the  ruins. 

The  horsemen  drew  rein  at  a  little  distance  from  the  pre 
cipice.  The  kaid  in  command  dismounted,  and  with  a  turban 
floating  from  a  short  staff,  advanced  to  the  bank.  The  Berber 
advanced  on  his  side.  The  conference  opened  on  the  part  of 
the  kaid  with  a  profusion  of  salutations  and  compliments. 

"  God  be  praised  for  all  his  mercies  !"  exclaimed  the  kaid. 
"  Not  the  least  of  which  is  that  he  again  permits  me  to  rest 
my  eyes  on  the  prince  of  horsemen ;  the  hero  of  the  Lab  el 
Barode.  May  Allah  hold  such  a  rider  in  his  right  hand !  And 
the  horse. — oh,  fortunate  owner  of  such  a  horse !  Say,  has 
he  recovered  his  wind1?" 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  391 

"Boroon,  the  son  of  El  Hassaneh,  is  well,"  replied  the 
Berber. 

"  El  Hassaneh !  Oh,  wonderful,  incomparable,  matchless 
animal !  My  ears  still  ring  with  her  fame ;  but  my  eyes  were 
never  blessed  with  the  sight  of  her.  Will  my  lord  tell  me  to 
which  of  the  Kolani  '  the  Beautiful '  traced  her  pedigree." 

"  The  ancestors  of  Boroon  and  his  mother  El  Hassaneh  had 
a  pure  stream  of  blood  a  thousand  years  old  before  the  Kolani 
were  heard  of,"  responded  the  Berber,  courteously,  but  with 
somewhat  of  impatience  in  his  tone.  "  But  come,  what  news 
from  the  court?  How  is  the  soltan  (whom  may  God  pre 
serve)  this  morning  V9 

"  My  lord  the  soltan — may  God  lengthen  his  life — is  well 
in  body,  but  sore  troubled  in  mind.  Never  has  a  soltan  of 
Morocco  had  his  beard  so  freely  handled.  Oh,  who  can  paint 
the  tempest  of  imperial  wrath  ?  It  was  terrible !  more  violent 
than  the  tornado !  more  withering  than  the  sirocco !  But 
God  is  alone  all-powerful.  The  shereef,  although  a  descen 
dant  of  the  prophet,  is  but  a  man.  He  bows  to  the  will  of 
Allah.  He  submits  to  destiny.  He  honored  me,  his  mean 
est  slave,  the  veriest  speck  of  dust  in  his  presence,  with  an 
order  to  saddle  and  mount.  He  sends  you  his  compliments. 
He  desires  to  know  upon  what  terms  you  will  restore  his 
heart's  jewel,  the  young  Muley  Abderrhaman ;  and  he  begs 
that  you  will  commit  no  outrage  upon  the  boy  before  he  can 
have  time  to  treat  for  his  ransom." 

"  Look !"  exclaimed  Casbin,  leading  the  child  to  the  brink 
of  the  precipice.  "  See  for  yourself  that  the  boy  is  well ;  and 
now,  go — say  to  your  master  that  it  would  grieve  me  indeed 


392  THE     BERBER. 

to  be  compelled  to  work  the  child  any  harm.  Say  he  has  but 
to  comply  with  my  demands,  and  the  pride  of  his  old  age 
shall  be  immediately  restored  to  him." 

"  What  is  it  that  the  lord  of  Boroon  demands  T' 

"  'Twas  in  the  paper  that  I  flung  in  the  face  of  the  soltan. 
Did  he  not  read  it  ?" 

"  He  did ;  but  my  lord  the  shereef  thinks  that  the  chief  of 
the  Beni  Mozarg  is  inclined  to  laugh  at  the  dirt  that  he  has 
cast  on  the  imperial  beard.  There  was  nothing  in  that  paper 
but  a  demand  for  a  Christian  female.  The  soltan  despatched 
a  messenger  with  orders  to  bring  her  to  the  camp  ;  but  he 
cannot  believe  that  his  child  was  carried  off  to  secure  the  per 
son  of  one  Christian  woman." 

"  Go  !"  interrupted  the  Berber.  "  Say  to  your  master 
that  I  ask  nothing  beyond  the  terms  of  that  paper.  Bring  me 
the  young  Gaditana  and  the  child  shall  be  restored.  As  to  any 
thing  further,  say  to  him  that  I  will  help  myself  with  the 
strong  arm  ;  but  that  Casbin  Subah  wrings  not  a  father's  feel 
ings,  though  that  father  is  his  greatest  enemy,  for  the  sake  of 
plunder.  Bring  me  the  Gaditana.  If  she  is  now  at  the  camp 
she  can  easily  reach  this  spot  long  before  the  sun  hides  his  face 
in  the  west.  Bring  her  then  with  all  speed,  and,  mark  you,  with 
all  honor  and  care.  By  the  bones  of  my  great  ancestor,  Gen- 
seric !  if  a  free  look  lights  on  her  person,  or  a  foul  word  de 
nies  her  ear,  my  vengeance  shall  waken  the  wildest  wail  that 
ever  went  up  from  Mequinez !" 

The  look  and  tone  accompanying  these  words,  convinced 
the  kaid  that  the  speaker  was  in  earnest.  With  a  profusion 
of  the  usual  Arabic  compliments  the  conference  was  closed, 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO. 

and  the  Moor,  mounting  his  horse,  put  himself  at  the  head  of 
his  troop,  and  spurred  down  the  hill  at  full  speed ;  not,  how 
ever,  without  some  lingering  and  suspicious  looks  at  the  figure 
of  the  Berber,  and  the  party  of  the  rais  immediately  in  his 
rear.  Had  the  ravine  been  passable,  the  kaid  and  his  troop 
would  have  willingly  broken  faith,  and  notwithstanding  the 
peaceable  professions  of  the  white  flag,  have  attempted  to  cap 
ture  the  person  of  the  renowned  mountaineer.  Casbin  noted 
their  passing  whispers,  and  their  curious  glances  at  the  bridge- 
less  gulf,  and  a  slight  sneer  curled  his  lip  as,  muttering  some 
thing  to  himself,  he  turned  away,  and,  accompanied  by  his 
companions,  ascended  the  path  to  the  ruins  of  the  Romi. 

The  day  rolled  leisurely  away.  The  heat  of  the  sun  was 
less  oppressive ;  the  light  less  brilliant.  There  was  a  slight 
haze  in  the  air,  precursor  of  the  rains  which  had  already  begun 
upon  the  higher  summits  of  the  southern  Atlas.  Casbin 
pointed  out  to  his  companions  the  heavy  masses  of  floculent 
clouds,  enveloping  the  lofty  snow-covered  peaks,  and  stretching 
in  irregular  outline  down  upon  the  wooded  sides,  and  almost 
mingling  with  the  thousand  columns  of  smoke  that  could  be 
seen  arising  in  all  directions  from  plateaus  and  terraces,  which, 
as  usual,  had  been  cleared  by  fire  of  stubble  and  weeds,  in  ex 
pectation  of  the  coming  rains ;  or  from  the  numerous  charcoal 
pits  of  the  mountaineers.  The  commotion  in  the  clouds,  as, 
riven  each  instant  by  the  electric  fluid,  they  opened  and  closed, 
and  rose  and  fell,  could  be  distinctly  seen,  although  the  bright 
sun-light,  reflected  in  various  tints  of  glowing  white  from  their 
surfaces,  prevented  a  view  of  the  flash.  The  ear,  however,  oc 
casionally  caught  a  faint  sound  of  the  distant  thunder ;  a  deep 


394  THE     BERBER. 

bass  note  that  harmonized  well  with  the  shriller  tone  from 
rustling  grass  and  waving  trees ;  from  locust  and  lizard,  and 
bird  and  bee  and  tiny  insect,  and  man,  with  his  flocks  and 
his  dogs,  which  came  up  in  low  sweet  music  from  the  plain 
below,  or  from  the  slopes  of  the  surrounding  hills  and  the  im 
mediate  precincts  of  the  ruins. 

The  slight  haze  of  the  atmosphere  prevented  a  clear  view 
of  the  plain  of  Sakel,  and  it  was  not  until  the  sun  was  two 
or  three  hours  past  the  meridian  that  a  party  of  horsemen 
could  be  seen  advancing  at  a  rapid  pace. 

Deep  and  true  emotion  is  necessarily  silent.  The  blood 
forsook  Isabel's  cheeky  she  spoke  not — she  could  hardly 
breathe.  Xaripha  was  almost  as  much  excited. 

"Be  not  alarmed,  seiiorita,"  exclaimed  Casbin,  in  an  en 
couraging  tone,  "  your  sister  is  coming.  She  will  soon  be  in 
your  arms  !" 

"  Can  you  see  her  ?"  gasped  Isabel. 

"In  a  moment,  senorita,"  replied  Casbin,  straining  his 

eyes "one  moment  more.  Ha!  yes 1  see  her a 

female  figure !  A  horseman  on  either  hand — or  I  should  have 
seen  her  before !" 

Isabel  burst  into  tears,  and  the  rais  was  compelled  to 
throw  his  arm  around  her  to  keep  her  from  falling. 

The  Berber  sprang  down  the  pathway  from  the  ruins  to 
the  ravine,  where  three  or  four  men  were  engaged  in  restretch- 
ing  and  securing  the  cords  of  the  bridge.  It  was  a  simple 
job,  after  a  rope  had  been  made  fast  to  the  lower  plank,  to 
haul  the  pendant  bridge  up  to  its  horizontal  position,  and  unite 
the  ends  of  the  severed  cords.  Under  the  Berber's  supervision 
it  was  well  and  quickly  done. 


A    TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  395 

As  the  troop  of  Moorish  horse  reached  the  ascending 
ground,  a  mile  or  so  from  the  ruin,  they  slackened  their  pace, 
allowing  themselves  to  be  overtaken  by  a  party  of  three  or 
four  mounted  men,  who  had  evidently  ridden  hard — their 
horses,  half  blown,  and  covered  with  foam  and  blood,  giving 
unmistakeable  indications  of  having  been  freely  exercised  un 
der  the  influence  of  lash  and  spur. 

The  leader  of  the  party — a  tall,  ungainly-looking  negro — 
was  at  once  recognized  as  Muley  Sidan,  son  of  the  soltan  and 
the  soltana  sidana.  With  a  single  glance  at  Juanita  he  rode 
up  to  the  kaid  who  commanded  the  troop,  and  motioned  him 
on  in  advance  of  his  men.  When  beyond  hearing,  he  turned 
to  the  kaid,  and  gruffly  said : 

"  I  have  had  a  hard  ride  after  you.  Praise  be  to  God,  I 
am  in  time !  This  must  not  be.  This  maiden  must  not  be 
given  up  to  this  Berber  traitor !" 

"  'Tis  the  command  of  the  soltan,  whose  life  may  Allah 
prolong !"  replied  the  kaid. 

':  I  care  not,"  replied  the  prince.  "  My  mother  needs  her ; 
and  when  my  mother  needs  anything,  woe  unto  whoever 
stands  in  the  way  of  her  obtaining  it." 

The  kaid  knew  the  violent  temper  of  the  prince,  and  the 
power  of  Leila  Ajakah.  He  saw  on  the  instant  that  it  would 
require  no  little  prudence  and  tact  to  steer  clear  between 
the  requisitions  of  the  soltana  and  the  commands  of  Muley 
Ismael. 

"  The  daughter  of  the  Nazarine  must  not  be  given  up !" 
repeated  the  prince. 

"And  the  young  shereef!  the  son  of  our  lord,"  asked  the 


396  THE     BERBER. 

kaid ;  "  who  will  dare  apprise  the  soltan  that  his  child  has 
been  left  in  the  hands  of  the  Berber  ?" 

The  prince  made  no  reply,  but  with  a  gloomy  look  he  rode 
on  by  the  side  of  the  kaid. 

"  I  am  of  the  blood  of  the  shereefs  myself,"  continued  the 
kaid  ;  "  but  I  should  not  like  to  be  the  bearer  of  such  news. 
Pardon  my  boldness,  but  I  doubt  whether  the  loftiest  head  in 
the  soltan's  family  would  sit  safely  on  its  shoulders  in  such  a 
case.  My  head  would  go  at  any  rate." 

"  Is  there  no  way  of  getting  hold  of  the  young  shereef, 
except  by  surrendering  the  maiden  V  moodily  demanded  the 
prince. 

"None,"  replied  the  kaid.  "And  yet,  perhaps,  it  might 
be,"  he  continued,  musingly. 

"  How  ?"  demanded  Sidan,  in  a  tone  of  impatience.  "  Tell 
me  how  we  can  recover  the  child  and  retain  the  maiden,  and 
you  shall  name  your  own  reward.  Oh  !  I  should  so  like  to  cir 
cumvent  this  Berber this  traitorous  hound  of  the  hills. 

Some  day  I  will  extirpate  his  tribe,  and  defile  the  graves  of 
his  ancestors now,  I  would  laugh  at  his  beard." 

"  You  may,  perhaps,  be  able  to  do  more  than  laugh  at  it," 
returned  the  kaid.  "  Suppose  that  it  were  in  your  power  to 
spit  upon  it — to  pull  it  out  by  the  roots  ?" 

The  prince  looked  at  the  kaid  inquiringly.  In  reply  the 
kaid  proceeded  to  explain  that  it  would  be,  perhaps,  possible, 
after  surrendering  Juanita  and  getting  possession  of  the  child, 
to  make  a  sudden  dash  at  the  Berber,  and  secure  him  and  his 
prize. 

"  Had  the  bridge  been  up,"  said  the  kaid,  "  I  could  have 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  397 

done  it  this  morning.  This  afternoon  there  will  be  no  such 
difficulty  in  the  way." 

"  But  think  you  that  this  son  of  a  thousand  burnt  grand 
fathers  will  not  appear  in  force '?" 

"  No,  not  so,"  replied  the  kaid.  "  Look  for  yourself— 
there  he  is  in  waiting  for  us  just  beyond  the  ravine.  There 
are  not  more  than  a  dozen  persons  with  him — and  two  of 
those  are  women.  No,  he  trusts  in  this  thing,"  continued  the 
kaid,  unrolling  and  exposing  a  white  flag.  "  He  is  a  fool. 
This  maiden  must  have  bewitched  him,  or  he  would  have  in 
sisted  on  better  terms  with  the  young  shereef  in  his  power. 
He  might  have  emptied  the  belt  al  mal  of  every  coin  in  it." 

The  kaid's  allusion  to  the  imperial  treasury,  the  vast 
hoards  of  which  the  avaricious  prince  expected  some  day  to 
inherit,  suggested  a  reason  for  recovering  the  child  which  had 
not  before  occurred  to  Sidan.  It  would  be  bad  policy  indeed 
to  leave  the  means  of  forcing  money  from  the  old  doting 
father  in  the  hands  of  the  Berber,  even  to  gratify  the  soltana, 
and  secure  her  ascendancy  in  the  hareem.  He  glanced  back 
with  a  look  of  curiosity,  but  Juanita  wore  her  haick  well 
ovfer  her  face,  and  he  could  not  see  her  features.  She,  how 
ever,  saw  him,  and  her  suspicions  were  excited  by  his  manner 
of  addressing  the  kaid.  As  she  watched  the  play  of  their 
features,  their  excited  gestures  and  mysterious  glances,  she 
became  more  and  more  convinced  that  some  foul  play  was 
in  contemplation. 

A  turn  of  the  road  permitted  a  sight  of  the  bridge  le- 
stored  to  its  horizontal  position.  A  single  guard  with  a  long 
musket  stood  at  one  end.  Beyond,  at  some  fifty  paces  dis- 


398  THE     BERBER. 

tance  was  the  Berber,  and  grouped  behind  him  two  or  three 
rough-looking  attendants  and  the  party  from  the  ruins. 

The  plans  of  the  prince  and  the  kaid  were  quickly  formed. 
The  first  was  to  halt  with  the  main  body  of  the  troops  at  the 
bridge,  while  the  kaid  rode  forward  with  Juanita,  and  effected 
the  exchange.  The  instant  he  should  get  the  child  in  his  arms 
the  prince  was  to  advance  with  the  soldiers,  and  recapture 
Juanita,  and  seize  the  Berber,  or  cut  him  down  if  he  offered 
any  resistance.  The  plan  was  simple,  and  apparently  of  easy 
execution. 

With  courteous  and  politic  duplicity  the  Moors  drew  rein 
at  a  little  distance  from  the  bridge,  as  if  disposed  to  wait  for 
some  message  from  the  other  side.  But  the  next  instant  they 
were  again  in  motion,  advancing  to  the  brink  of  the  ravine. 
The  kaid,  bearing  the  white  flag,  crossed  the  bridge,  followed 
by  Juanita,  and  the  horsemen  who  rode  by  her  side.  She  had 
scarcely,  however,  reached  the  other  side,  when  Prince  Sidan, 
with  the  remaining  portion  of  the  troop,  began  to  pour  over 
the  bridge,  despite  the  opposition  of  the  single  guard. 

The  Berber  heeded  not  this  movement,  but  advancing 
with  the  young  shereef,  politely  exchanged  the  usual  compli 
ments  with  the  kaid.  He  then  turned  and  assisted  Juanita  to 
dismount.  As  she  rested  in  his  arms  for  a  moment,  on  her 
way  to  the  ground,  she  whispered, 

"  Beware,  senor.     There  is  treachery  intended,  I  fear." 

Casbin  started,  but  made  no  reply.  Leaving  Juanita  to  the 
embrace  of  her  sister,  he  turned  to  the  kaid. 

"  What  means  this1?"  he  demanded,  gravely  but  politely. 
"  Is  it  necessary  for  your  troops  to  pass  the  bridge  ?  Do  I  not 
appear  unarmed  and  unattended  ? 


A    TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  399 

"  By  the  faith  of  Allah,"  exclaimed  the  kaid,  "  you  have 
no  cause  to  fear.  My  men  are  somewhat  curious  to  see  so 
renowned  a  person  as  the  chief  of  the  Beni  Mozarg.  Hand 
me  the  child,  and  ^will  soon  send  them  across  the  ravine. 

A  sarcastic  smile  played  around  the  mouth  of  the 
Berber. 

"  Will  Muley  Sidan,  the  son  of  your  soltan,  give  the  same 
pledge]" 

The  kaid  started,  to  find  that  Sidan  had  been  recognized, 
but  recovering  himself  in  a  moment,  he  called  quietly  to  the 
prince  to  advance. 

"  The  chief  of  the  Mozarg  fears  that  we  meditate  evil," 
said  the  kaid.  "  Will  the  son  of  the  soltan  tell  him  that  the 
eye  of  Allah  searches  the  breast  of  a  shereef,  and  that  no 
treachery  can  be  found  in  it? 

Muley  Sidau  assumed  a  look  of  extreme  candor  and 
courtesy.  Placing  his  hand  on  his  heart  he  bowed  low, 
smiled,  and  exclaimed, 

"  As  Allah  is  truth,  there  is  no  guile  in  a  shereef." 

The  gravity  with  which  the  prince  asserted  this  monstrous 
lie  was  very  amusing.  From  the  days  when  the  fanatic 
founders  of  the  family  (issuing  from  their  home  in  the  desert) 
succeeded  by  a  course  of  systematic  treachery  and  fraud,  not 
less  than  by  force  of  arms,  in  subverting  the  dynasty  of  the 
Almohades,  the  Shereefian  family  had  been  noted  for  its  bad 
faith  to  friends  and  foes.  The  assertion  of  the  prince  was 
eminently  ridiculous  ;  and  the  Berber  replied  by  a  laugh. 

Sidan  glared  at  the  young  man  for  a  moment  with  an 
expression  of  fury.  But  he  restrained  himself  until  the 


400  THE     BERBER. 

boy  should  be  in  the  arms  of  the  kaid.  Practised  in  the  art 
of  dissimulation,  like  most  of  his  countrymen,  he  smoothed 
his  features  and  again  placed  his  hand  upon  his  heart. 

"  Fear  nothing,"  he  exclaimed.  "  Pass  the  boy  to  the 
kaid.  May  my  great-great-grandfather  burn  for  ever,  if  any 
evil  is  intended." 

There  was  something  so  sinister  in  the  scowling  glance  of 
Muley  Sidan,  something  so  suspicious  and  threatening  in  the 
tone  of  his  voice,  that  the  group  behind  the  Berber  started  and 
listened  in  attitudes  of  intense  excitement  for  the  reply.  Ju- 
anita,  who  had  her  own  reasons — vague  ones  though  they 
were — for  suspecting  treachery,  took  a  step  towards  the  young 
chief,  but  paused  in  breathless  expectation  of  what  was  to 
happen. 

Casbin  smiled  with  a  peculiar  meaning ;  but  without  a 
word  he  raised  the  boy  in  his  arms  and  handed  him  to  the 
kaid.  The  instant  the  latter  had  secured  the  child  in  his  arms, 
he  wheeled  his  horse,  struck  spurs  into  him,  and  in  a  few 
jumps  was  in  the  rear  of  his  troop. 

There  appeared  to  be  something  exceedingly  comical,  in 
this  rapid  and  suspicious  movement,  to  the  eyes  of  the  Berber. 
He  clapped  his  hands,  as  if  applauding  some  dexterous  feat 
of  the  Lab  el  Barode ;  his  face  glowed  all  over  with  the 
spirit  of  fun,  and  a  burst  of  clear  ringing,  heart-felt  laughter 
struck  all  within  hearing — Christians  and  Moors — with  sur 
prise.  So  much  astonished  was  Muley  Sidan  at  the  sudden 
outbreak  of  pure  boyish  glee,  that  for  a  moment  he  forgot 
himself.  • 

He   sat  still   on  his  hovse,  and  his  eyes  wandered  from 


A     TALE     OF    MOROCCO.  401 

the  Berber  to  the  kaid,  as  if  in  search  of  the  joke.  The  idea 
that  the  chief  of  the  Beni  Mozarg  was  half  witted  occurred  to 
him,  but  was  at  once  chased  from  his  mind  by  the  conviction 
that  the  renowned  mountaineer  was  making  him — the  son  of 
the  soltan — an  object  of  mirth. 

A  tremor  of  rage  shook  his  frame,  and  gathering  up 
his  bridle,  and  spurring  his  horse,  he  shouted  to  the  soldiers 
to  advance. 

"  Dismount !     Seize  him ! seize  them  all !     Bind  the 

men,  while  I  secure  these  women  !" 

"  Hold !"  shouted  Casbin,  in  a  tone  that  made  the  sol 
diers  pause,  as  they  were  flinging  themselves  from  their 
saddles,  and  even  arrested  the  movements  of  the  prince. 
"  Hold  !  Not  a  step,  for  your  lives !  Your  heads  are  in  the 
lion's  mouth beware  how  you  provoke  his  rage  !" 

Casbin  raised  his  hand.  "  Show  yourselves  children  of  the 
Mozarg !"  he  shouted  in  a  voice  that  sent  its  clear  echoes  roll 
ing  along  the  hill  side,  "  show  yourselves  to  those  traitors ;  and 
at  the  word  the  surrounding  thickets  seemed  to  be  alive  with 
men,  all  armed  with  long  guns,  which  they  pointed  with  one 
accord  at  the  astonished  Moors.  They  covered  the  rocks — 
they  filled  the  road  beyond  the  bridge — they  seemed  to  start 
up  from  the  ground  in  all  directions. 

"  Fools  !"  exclaimed  Casbin,  addressing  the  Moors,  "  did 
you  think  that  I  was  so  weak,  and  so  ignorant  of  Moorish  cha 
racter  as  to  trust  to  your  honor  1  "  Cowardly  liars  ! trai 
tors  !  what  hinders  me  from  punishing  your  intended  treachery 

as  it  deserves-?     But  go 1  leave  you  to  the  judgment  of 

Allah,  whose  name  you  have  profaned.     Go — the  eyes  of  my 


402  THE     BERBER. 

children  ache  with  the  sight  of  such  faithless  wretches  !  Go, 
lest  they  take  the  sword  of  vengeance  into  their  own  hands, 
when  I  shall  be  powerless  to  restrain  them  !" 

Casbin  waved  his  hand ;  the  mountaineers  fell  back  from 
the  road,  allowing  the  disconcerted  horsemen  to  cross  the 
bridge,  and  descend  the  slope  of  the  hill.  Muley  Sidan  slunk 
away  with  the  rest,  uttering  not  a  word  until  he  was  beyond 
the  reach  of  the  Berber  muskets,  when  his  rage  overflowed  in 
a  torrent  of  imprecations. 


A    TALE    OF    MOROCCO.  403 


CHAPTER   XXXIV 


THE  sun  had  risen  some  fifteen  or  twenty  degrees  above 
the  eastern  summits  of  the  Atlas,  when  our  travellers  having 
again  passed  a  pleasant  night  in  the  ruins  of  the  Romi,  once 
more  mounted  to  the  saddle.  Their  route  lay  in  an  easterly 
direction,  upwards,  through  groves  of  oak  and  evergreen ; 
along  cultivated  valleys,  filled  with  villages  of  stone  huts, 
and  across  several  small  plateaus  and  mountain  slopes, 
covered  with  flocks  of  sheep  and  goats. 

Every  danger  had  passed,  and  a  scene  of  perfect  security 
opened  the  doors  of  all  hearts  to  the  influences  of  the  grand 
and  picturesque  aspects  of  nature.  There  was  not  much  said. 
Their  minds  were  too  full  of  delicious  emotion ;  they  were  too 
happy  to  talk.  The  only  countenance  darkened  by  a  shade  of 
care,  was  that  of  the  rais.  Upon  first  mounting,  he  had  made 
an  effort  at  gaiety,  but  as  they  proceeded  on  their  way,  his 
spirits  seemed  to  sink  with  every  step,  until  at  length  his 
gloomy  looks  began  to  effect  Isabel,  who  vainly  watched  his 
face  for  some  clue  to  his  melancholy. 

"We  are  near  the  valley  of  lions,"  exclaimed  Casbin 
to  the  rais,  checking  his  horse  and  leaning  back  in  his  saddle. 

The  shade  on  Hassan's  face  deepened.  Isabel  started  with 
alarm,  and  turned  to  him  with  a  look  of  inquiry. 


404  THE     BERBER. 

"  Be  not  disturbed,  senorita,"  replied  Hassan,  riding  closer 
to  her  side.  "  There  is  no  danger  to  be  apprehended.  The 
valley  of  lions  is  simply  the  spot  that  has  been  fixed  upon  as 
the  end  of " 

"  Our  journey !"  demanded  Isabel,  perceiving  the  rais 
hesitate. 

"  Not  of  your's,  mi  querideta,  but  of  mine.  At  this  point 
we  separate.  You  to  go  on  with  your  sister  to  the  castle  of 
Casbin  el  Subah  ;  I  to  return  to  my  galley  at  Salee." 

The  words  of  Hassan  fell  with  a  stunning  effect  upon  the 
ears  of  Isabel.  She  gasped  for  breath,  unable  to  utter  a  word 
in  reply.  Her  lover  pressed  closer  to  her  side,  ready  to  af 
ford  her  the  support  of  his  arm ;  and  with  many  expressions 
of  endearment  exerted  himself  to  reassure  her  spirits.  Some 
little  emotion  Hassan  had  expected ;  and  it  was  with  a  view 
to  save  her  from  all  unnecessary  excitement  that  he  had  de 
ferred  informing  her,  until  the  last  moment,  of  the  plans  that 
had  been  agreed  upon  between  himself  and  the  Berber.  But 
he  was  wholly  unprepared  for  the  degree  of  emotion  with 
which  his  announcement  had  been  received ;  or  the  paralyzing 
effect  of  the  blow.  It  happened,  however,  for  the  best,  inas 
much  as,  although  the  shock  was  at  first  very  severe,  the  re 
action  which  followed  upon  further  explanation  was  propor 
tioned  to  it.  The  spirits  of  the  Gaditana  rising  with  a  bound 
from  the  undue  depression,  mounted  to  their  original  elevation 
upon  learning  that  the  proposed  separation  was  to  be  but  for 
a  few  weeks  at  most.  Her  tender  and  impressible  nature  was 
better  able  to  endure  the  temporary  absence  of  her  lover,  from 
having  been  compelled,  for  a  moment,  to  contemplate  the 
possibility  of  a  separation  from  him  for  ever. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  405 

In  a  few  words  the  rais  explained  his  plans ;  pointed  out 
the  necessity  of  leaving  her  for  awhile,  to  ensure  some  means 
for  the  ultimate  escape  of  the  whole  party  from  the  country ; 
enlarged,  in  answer  to  her  inquiries,  upon  the  feasibility  of  his 
scheme,  the  little  danger  attending  its  execution,  and  the  cer 
tainty  of  soon  seeing  her  again.  Absorbed  in  conversation  on 
a  subject  so  deeply  interesting  to  them,  the  lovers  heeded  not 
their  arrival  at  a  beautiful  little  valley,  until  their  further  pro 
gress  was  arrested  by  the  shouts  of  their  companions,  who 
had  dismounted,  and  were  grouped  upon  the  turf  around  a 
spring  of  crystal  water,  and  beneath  the  shade  of  a  venera 
ble  ilex  or  holm  oak. 

A  number  of  good-looking  bareheaded  and  barefooted  dam 
sels,  bearing  loaves  of  bread,  hot  barley  cakes,  fresh  milk,  ho 
ney,  and  eggs,  were  in  attendance.  Old  women  and  children 
flocked  from  the  neighboring  huts  ;  while,  at  a  little  distance,  the 
men  collected  in  groups,  all  anxious  to  get  a  sight  of  the  famous 
chief.  Casbin  advanced  to  them ;  spoke  to  them,  familiarly 
presented  his  hand  to  two  or  three  of  the  oldest,  and  touched 
several  sick  children  who  were  presented  to  him  by  their 
parents. 

The  morning  ride  and  the  fresh  mountain  air  had  given  the 
travellers,  not  even  excepting  the  three  maidens,  a  good  ap 
petite;  and  full  justice  was  done  to  the  breakfast  of  the  moun 
taineers.  Everything  in  the  scene ;  the  smiling  aspect  of  the 
little  valley,  imbedded  as  it  were  a  dimple  in  the  rough  and 
scarred  cheek  of  old  Atlas  ;  the  bright  sun-light  playing  on  rock 
and  tree  and  waving  grass ;  the  cool  breeze  ;  the  picturesque 
looks,  free  bearing,  and  respectful  attitudes  of  the  wild  moun 


406  THE    BERBER. 

taineers,  all  combined  to  make  that  al  fresco  meal  a  gay  and 
pleasant  one.  The  spirits  of  the  party  reached  a  high  degree 
of  elevation,  and  even  the  rais,  shaking  off  with  a  determined 
effort  all  feelings  of  sadness,  joined,  in  his  grave  way,  in  the 
general  hilarity. 

The  signal  for  mounting  was  given  by  the  Berber.  Their 
animals  were  brought  up  by  their  attendants,  and  each  gallant 
hastened  to  assist  his  lady-love  to  her  saddle.  Hassan  lingered 
long  at  the  stirrup  of  Isabel,  and  would  still  have  staid,  had 
not  Casbin,  who  had  mounted  his  horse,  ridden  up  to  her  side 
and  impatiently  laid  his  hand  on  her  bridle. 

"  Come,  senorita,"  exclaimed  Casbin,  "  I  must  carry  you 
off.  You  are  detaining  this  famous  rover  from  his  duty." 

The  rais  interposed  no  objection,  but  with  an  emphatic 
pressure  of  her  hand,  he  turned  and  sprang  into  the  saddle. 
With  a  wave  of  his  arm  and  a  courteous  inclination  of  his 
body  almost  to  his  saddle-bow,  he  wheeled  his  horse,  and  re 
solutely  turned  back,  accompanied  by  a  mounted  mountaineer, 
on  the  path  to  the  ruins  of  the  Romi. 

"  You  will  not  think  me  uncourteous,  senorita,"  exclaimed 
Casbin,  "  in  thus  cutting  short  the  parting  speeches  of  so  gal 
lant  a  lover  ?  The  truth  is,  time  presses,  and  every  moment  is 
of  importance." 

"  How  so  ?"  demanded  Juanita.  "  Did  you  not  say  that 
we  have  reached  ground  that  had  never  been  desecrated  by 
the  footsteps  of  a  conqueror  1  No  danger  can  threaten  us 
here!" 

"  You  are  right  senorita,"  replied  Casbin.  "  You  need  en 
tertain  no  fear,  and  our  time  is  not  of  much  importance ;  but 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  407 

with  Hassan  the  case  is  different — an  hour  lost  to  him  may 
ruin  our  plans." 

"  Why,  then,  did  he  accompany  us  from  the  ruins  of  the 
Rorni  ?"  inquired  Juanita. 

"  Why  ?  senorita,"  replied  the  Berber,  with  a  glance  at  Isa 
bel  ;  "  because  love  is  stronger  than  prudence.  I  urged  that 
he  should  set  out  at  once  for  Salee  :  he  insisted  upon  going  to 
my  castle ;  so  we  compromised  the  matter  by  agreeing  upon 
the  valley  of  lions  for  a  parting." 

"It  must  be  urgent  business,"  exclaimed  Juanita,  "that 
can  induce  him  to  turn  back  even  here.  Every  ascent  seems 
to  open  up  fresh  views  of  beauty ;  and  at  every  step  my  heart 
beats  with  a  more  vigorous  pulse  of  delight.  Oh,  I  should 
dislike,  indeed,  to  be  compelled  to  turn  back  and  descend." 

"  Not  even  to  resume  your  seat  on  the  cushions  in  the  pri 
vate  patio  of  Leila  Ajakah,"  said  Casbin,  "  with  the  Abysinian 
dancing  girls  posturing  before  you T' 

Juanita  raised  her  eyes  with  an  expression  of  surprise  to 
the  face  of  the  Berber.  In  talking  over  her  adventures  after 
being  carried  off  by  the  officers  of  the  soltana,  nothing  had 
been  said  on  her  part  of  the  dancing  girls,  or  on  the  part  of 
Casbin  in  relation  to  his  visit  to  the  hareem. 

The  Berber  answered  her  puzzled  look  with  a  smile. 

"  Not  even,"  he  continued,  "  if  you  could  hear  the  casta 
nets  and  tambourines  of  those  black  Soudan  damsels,  or  taste 
the  sweetmeats  presented  by  that  old  waddling  Smyrna-riot." 

Juanita  started,  and  an  expression  of  increasing  wonder 
mantled  her  face. 

"  The  Moors  are  right,"  she  exclaimed.     "  I  think  you  deal 


408  THE     BERBER. 

in  magic,  else  how  could  you  know  so  accurately  the  charac 
ter  and  country  of  the  slaves  who  tired  me  to  death  in  their 
attempts  to  amuse  me." 

"  It  needed  no  art  of  magic  to  inform  me,"  replied  Casbin. 
"  I  saw  you  with  my  own  eyes." 

"  You,  senor  ?"  questioned  Juanita,  in  a  tone  of  astonish 
ment. 

"  At  your  service,  senorita,"  replied  the  young  man,  bow 
ing  and  laughing  gaily.  "  Did  you  think  that  no  eye  was 
watching  over  you  1  Did  you  think  that  I  could  content  my 
self  with  my  preparations  for  securing  a  fitting  hostage  for 
your  safe  return  1  Did  you  imagine  that  I  could  sleep  without 
having  seen,  with  my  own  eyes,  how  so  wild  and  free  a  bird 
looked  in  its  gilded  captivity  ?  And  well  indeed,  senorita,  did 
you  bear  yourself.  I  marked  your  composed  mien ;  your 
calm  and  courageous  smile,  and  your  abstracted  air.  Tell  me, 
Juanita,  what  occupied  your  thoughts  at  that  moment  when, 
with  a  gesture  of  command,  you  waived  aside  the  dancing 
girls,  and  starting  up  from  your  cushions,  paced  the  marble 
court. 

Juanita  glanced  at  the  Berber  with  a  look  of  peculiar 
meaning,  which  spoke  far  more  than  in  words  she  would  have 
been  willing  to  avow.  She  smiled,  blushed,  but  made  no 
reply. 

Casbin  understood  the  look,  but  with  lover-like  perversity 
he  chose  to  misinterpret  it. 

"  Oh,  I  see,  senorita,"  he  exclaimed,  "  you  were  thinking 
of  the  terraces  of  the  Guadalete,  and  the  balconies  and  alame- 
das  of  Cadiz.  Well,  wait  but  a  little,  and  you  shall  see  them 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  409 

once  more.  If  the  rais  succeeds  in  his  part  of  the  enterprise, 
a  few  days  at  most  will  restore  you  to  the  delights  of  Anda 
lusia. 

"  A  few  days,  senor,'1  replied  Juanita,  with  something  of 
pique  in  her  tone.  She  was  going  on  with  an  ironical  congra 
tulation  upon  the  lightness  of  the  tax  upon  the  hospitality  of 
his  kassir,  that  in  that  case  they  should  inflict ;  but  a  recollec 
tion  of  the  service  that,  upon  two  occasions,  he  had  rendered 
her,  drove  from  her  mind  all  disposition  to  retort  the  affected 
carelessness  of  his  speech.  She  felt  a  sense  of  humility  creep 
ing  upon  her;  a  disposition  to  submit  even  to  caprice  and 
misinterpretation ;  a  desire  to  be  in  some  degree  tyranized 
over ;  to  suffer  anything  rather  than  indifference  and  separation. 

"  A  few  days !"  she  exclaimed  again,  but  in  a  differ 
ent  tone. 

.,  "  A  few  days,  senorita  :  perchance,  however,  a  few  weeks. 
Think  you  that  the  time  will  seem  too  long  T' 

"  Oh,  no,"  replied  Juanita,  ';  I  should  not  mind  spending 
months  amid  such  scenes  as  this." 

"  Months,  Juanita,  but  not  years !  For  awhile  you  would 
enjoy  the  grandeur  of  our  mountain  peaks,  the  sublimity  of 
our  winter  storms,  or  the  refreshing  coolness  of  our  summer 
breezes — the  beauty  of  our  valleys,  or  the  wild  freedom  of  our 
people.  For  months,  perhaps ;  but  in  the  end  you  would  tire 
of  them,  and  long  for  more  familiar  scenes  and  more  conge 
nial  manners.  Oh,  no,  senorita,  you  could  not  endure  our 
Berber  life  for  years  !" 

"  The  young  man  pressed  closer  to  Juanita's  side,  and 
dropping  his  voice  to  the  low  key  of  deep  and  tender  feeling, 

18 


410  THE     BERBER. 

looked  inquiringly  into  her  eyes.  The  path  had  grown  more 
rugged.  Her  mule  stumbled ;  but  the  ready  arm  of  the 
Berber  seized  the  bridle,  and  prevented  him  from  falling. 

"  How  is  it,"  said  Juanita,  as  her  beast  recovered  his  foot 
ing,  "  that  you  can  endure  what  you  think  would  be  so  dis 
tasteful  to  me  T 

"  Oh,  senorita,"  replied  Casbin,  "  the  case  is  very  different. 
We  are  the  creatures  of  the  nature  amid  which  we  have  been 
bred.  I  was  born  amid  these  mountains  :  their  snowy  sum 
mits,  their  awful  precipices,  their  foaming  cataracts,  their  dark 
valleys  and  forests,  enter  into  my  mental  and  physical  compo 
sition — they  are  part  of  me.  Besides,  I  have  objects  worthy 
of  a  life  struggle  to  attain,  and  that  can  only  be  attained  by 
work,  night  and  day,  amid  my  own  countrymen.  God  gave  me, 
senorita,  a  father,  who  had  emancipated  himself  from  the  pre 
judice  and  ignorance  of  his  people.  He  saw  that  the  elements 
of  a  great  nation  abounded  among  us ;  but  that,  like  the  pre 
cious  ores  of  our  mountains,  they  were  lying,  as  they  had  lain 
for  centuries  upon  centuries,  neglected  and  useless.  He  anxious 
ly  sought  for  some  means  to  combine  these  elements — to  in 
fuse  among  them  the  principle  of  an  active  moving  vitality — 
to  leaven  them  with  the  desire  for  growth  and  improvement. 
But,  alas  !  he  died  !  leaving  for  me,  as  his  richest  legacy,  the 
solution  of  the  problem  that  puzzled  him.  With  such  an  ob 
ject  ever  before  me — with  such  a  purpose  ever  swaying  me — 
I,*senorita,  could  dwell  no  where  else  but  amid  these  moun 
tains  ;  but  you — oh  !  you,  Juanita !  have  no  such  relations  to 
these  scenes — you  could  never  be  content  with  such  a  life !" 

It  was  an  embarrassing  moment  for  Juanita.     Could  she 


AT  ALE     OF     MOROCCO.  411 

have  spoken  as  her  heart  dictated,  she  would  have  energeti 
cally  expressed  her  belief  in  her  power  to  dwell  contentedly, 
not  only  for  years,  but  for  ever  among  the  Berbers ;  she  would 
have  said  that  love  alone  was  an  object  sufficient  to  induce  any 
sacrifice ;  she  would  have  asserted  the  possibility  of  making 
the  young  man's  purposes  her  purposes ;  of  entering  into  his 
plans  of  civilization  and  conquest;  of  participating  in  his  plea 
sures  and  labors,  his  hopes  and  his  fears.  But  there  was  no 
thing  in  the  Berber's  tone  or  words  that  would  fully  warrant 
such  a  confession  of  her  thoughts  and  feelings ;  and  there  was 
too  strong  a  principle  of  honesty  and  directness  in  her  cha 
racter  ;  toe  deep  a  depth  of  pure  and  simple  feeling,  to  permit 
a  resort  to  the  usual  feminine  resource,  the  light  jesting  reply 
of  affected  carelessness.  She  said  nothing,  but  with  a  frank 
fearless  glance,  raised  her  eyes  from  the  ground  and  direct 
ed  them  upon  Casbin's  face. 

On  his  part,  the  Berber  chief  was  equally  embarrassed  with 
doubt.  He  knew  that  he  loved.  He  knew  that  he  was  loved 
in  return.  But  still  it  was  a  question  with  him  whether  he 
ought  to  propose  to  Juanita  to  become  his  bride ;  whether  it 
would  be  wise  to  separate  her,  should  she  consent  to  it,  from 
her  sister ;  to  tear  her  away  from  country  and  friends ;  to  un 
dertake  to  naturalize  an  off-shoot  of  European  civilization  amid 
the  barbarism  of  the  Atlas.  Would  the  experiment  be  suc 
cessful,  even  if  she  submitted  to  it  willingly  ? 

The  profound  ambition  of  the  young  man,  assiduously  cul 
tivated  by  his  father,  who  had  himself  fancied  that  he  was 
called  upon  to  recreate  the  empire  of  Genseric,  an  ambition 
that  had  been  confirmed  by  a  visit  to  the  remains  of  former 


412  THE     BERBER. 

Berber  power,  together  with  his  position  as  chief  of  a  tribe  al 
ways  at  variance  with  powerful  enemies,  had  rendered  him 
prudent  and  cautious  beyond  his  years.  No  present  gratifica 
tion  of  passion  or  fancy  had  power  to  influence  his  judgement. 
He  felt  the  responsibility  that  rested  upon  him ;  the  responsi 
bility  of  deciding,  as  well  for  Juanita  as  for  himself,  and 
with  an  expression  of  doubt  he  returned  the  maiden's 
glance.  Further  conversation,  however,  was  cut  short  by  the 
presence  of  the  rest  of  the  party,  who,  as  the  road  became 
more  winding,  were  compelled  to  quicken  their  pace,  and  to 
close  up,  in  order  to  keep  their  leader  in  sight. 

Their  path  now  lay  up  a  narrow  and  steep  ascent,  with 
frowning  precipices  on  either  side,  crowned  with  pines  and 
evergreen  oaks.  The  top  of  this  pass  opened  upon  a  wide 
and  level  plateau,  to  which  it  furnished  the  only  means  of 
access. 

A  magnificent  prospect  broke  upon  the  travellers  as  their 
staggering  but  sure-footed  animals  cleared  the  jagged  bed  of 
the  rocky  ravine,  and  sprang  up  to  the  open  plain.  On  one 
hand  they  could  look  back  upon  every  foot  of  ground  which 
they  had  passed.  Below  them  lay  the  ruins  of  the  Romi,  and 
further  on,  the  plain  and  city  of  Mequinez,  while  in  every 
other  direction  stretched  a  billowy  sea  of  mountains,  wave 
above  wave,  until  the  last  snow-crested  summits  were  mingled 
with  the  clear  blue  of  ether,  or  concealed  amid  the  masses  of 
fleecy  clouds. 

The  surface  of  the  plateau  was  dotted  with  numerous  stone 
houses  with  thatched  roofs.  Here  and  there  the  ground  was 
divided  by  hedge  rows,  into  gardens.  The  open  ground  was 


A     TALE    OF    MOROCCO.  413 

covered  by  herds  of  cattle  and  flocks  of  sheep.  Surmounting 
a  gentle  elevation  was  an  irregular  building  of  great  size  and 
of  considerable  architectural  pretension.  It  was  built  of 
stone,  and  enclosed  an  immense  court,  the  entrance  to  which 
was  through  a  matchicolated  gateway.  The  walls  were  flanked 
by  towers  at  the  angles,  and  surrounding  the  whole  was  a 
deep  moat.  Within,  distinct  pavilions,  connected  by  terraces 
and  latticed  corridors,  surrounded  the  court,  and  divided  into 
smaller  squares  and  more  secluded  patios  the  space  between 
their  outer  faces  and  the  casemented  ramparts  and  battlements. 

Upon  the  appearance  of  the  travellers  upon  the  plateau,  a 
small  culverine  was  discharged  from  one  of  the  towers;  the 
great  gate  of  the  berdj,  or  kassir,  was  thrown  open ;  the  draw 
bridge  lowered ;  and  issuing  from  the  court  appeared  a  body  of 
five  hundred  horsemen.  With  trumpets  sounding,  pinions  fly 
ing,  and  guns  whirling  in  the  air,  they  came  on  at  full  speed, 
uttering  loud  shouts.  They  halted,  wheeled,  divided  into  se 
veral  bodies,  rode  up  on  either  side,  discharged  their  long  guns, 
and  compelled  their  horses  to  the  most  violent  and  extrava 
gant  action. 

As  the  cavalcade  advanced,  crowds  of  women  and  children 
showed  themselves  at  every  point  from  which  they  could  ob 
tain  a  view ;  and  Juanita  noted  with  some  surprise,  but  more 
pleasure,  that  it  was  not  curiosity  in  relation  to  the  new 
comers  alone  that  actuated  them.  They  seemed  most  anxious 
to  see,  and  greet  with  shouts  of  welcome,  their  beloved 
Amekran. 

In  half  an  hour  the  party  arrived  at  the  draw-bridge  of 
the  castle.  Casbin  here  struck  spurs  into  his  horse,  dashed 


414  THE      BERBER. 

across  the  bridge,  and  sprang  to  the  ground  beneath  the 
arched  gateway.  Throwing  aside  his  cap  and  turban,  and  let 
ting  his  yellow  hair  fall  in  thick  masses  about  his  face,  he 
turned  to  the  advancing  travellers,  and  gravely  saluted  them. 
"  The  Amekranelarsh  of  the  Beni  Mozarg,"  he  exclaimed, 
gives  you  welcome  to  his  kassir." 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO. 


415 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 


UNDER  the  guidance  of  the  mountaineer  who  accompanied 
him,  Hassan  rapidly  retraced  the  path  that  led  to  the  ruins  of 
the  Romi,  and  descending  thence,  reached  by  nightfall  a  douah 
within  a  few  miles  of  Mequinez. 

His  guide  called  the  sheik  aside,  and  spoke  a  few  words  in 
his  ear.  The  sheik  expressed  his  willingness  to  comply  with 
any  requisition  from  the  chief  of  the  Mozarg,  and,  turning  to 
Hassan,  promised  him  a  fresh  horse  in  the  morning,  and  a 
guide  who  would  conduct  him  by  a  safe  path  around  the  city, 
and  put  him  into  the  main  road  to  Salee. 

Hassan  retired  to  the  single  tent  always  placed  in  the 
centre  of  a  douah,  and  which  serves,  in  place  of  a  mosque, 
for  religious  services,  as  well  as  for  the  shelter  of  the  traveller 
who  claims  the  hospitality  of  the  tribe.  Food  in  profusion 
was  brought  to  him,  and  the  old  men  of  the  douah  collecting 
in  a  circle  around  the  door  of  the  tent,  disposed  themselves 
for  a  talk.  The  Moors  are  fond  of  gossip,  and  as  they  had  no 
newspapers  in  those  days,  (in  which  particular  they  are  no 
better  off  now,)  their  only  means  for  satisfying  a  laudable 
thirst  for  information  in  relation  to  the  latest  news  was  tc 
question  the  passing  stranger. 


416  THE     BERBER. 

Hassan,  however,  was  rather  taciturn,  and  besides,  coming 
from  the  hills,  he  had  nothing  to  communicate  except  that  the 
famous  Amekran  was  safe  and  in  good  health.  On  their  part, 
however,  his  entertainers  were  full  of  stories  of  the  recent 
lab  el  barode.  Hassan  listened  with  interest,  occasionally 
picking  out  the  truth,  by  a  question,  from  amid  the  ridiculous 
exaggerations  which  had  already  got  abroad. 

Early  in  the  morning  he  was  aroused  by  the  sheik.  A 
fresh  horse  stood  waiting  for  him  at  the  door  of  the  tent.  His 
new  guide  was  already  mounted,  and  prepared  to  start; 
and  Hassan  bidding  his  host  adieu  with  the  usual  compliments 
and  wishes  for  safety  and  happiness,  set  forth  from  the  douah. 

The  barb  in  Morocco  is  never  trained  for  travelling — the 
Moors  knowing  no  medium  between  a  walk  and  a  gallop. 
Hassan,  however,  was  a  good  horseman ;  and  in  his  impatience 
to  reach  Salee,  he  contrived  to  make  his  beast  get  over  the 
ground  at  a  rapid  pace,  and  yet  preserve  his  wind  and  strength. 
At  sunrise  he  was  nearly  abreast  of  Mequinez.  At  noon  he 
had  left  the  turrets  of  the  capital  many  miles  behind  him.  A 
few  moments  he  stopped  by  the  banks  of  a  small  stream,  to 
bait  his  horse  from  a  bag  of  barley  carried  at  his  saddle-bow  $ 
and  again  he  mounted,  and  pressed  on.  But  towards  nightfall 
he  found  that  his  horse  could  go  no  further.  To  endeavor  to 
exchange  him  for  another,  at  some  of  the  douahs  in  sight,  he 
knew  would  take  more  time  than  he  could  spare,  as  he  was  re 
solved  to  reach  Salee  that  night.  Hassan  did  not  pause  long 
to  make  up  his  mind.  With  characteristic  readiness  he  sprang 
to  the  ground,  led  his  horse  to  a  secluded  spot,  and  placing 
the  barley  before  him,  took  off  the  saddle  and  bridle,  and 
threw  them  into  the  bushes. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  417 

"  You  will  not  wander  from  this  spot  to-ijight,"  he  said, 
addressing  his  steed.  "  In  the  morning  I  will  send  for  you  ; 
and  in  the  meantime  we  must  trust  to  fortune,  and  to  the  ho 
nesty  of  our  neighbors." 

Hassan  turned  his  face  in  the  direction  of  the  setting  sun, 
and  with  a  rapid  and  vigorous  step  walked  forward.  As  he 
ascended  a  little  eminence,  commanding  a  wide  horizon,  he 
saw  the  arches  of  the  old  aqueduct  we  have  mentioned,  as 
still  existing  in  the  neighborhood  of  Salee,  drawn  clearly  and 
distinctly  upon  the  glowing  western  sky.  Two  hours  later  he 
was  standing  beneath  them ;  and  still  an  hour  later  he  had 
crossed  the  wide  table  of  rock  stretching  to  the  walls  of  the 
city,  and  passing  round  by  the  moat,  reached  the  sandy  beach 
in  front  of  the  water-gate. 

There  were  a  number  of  vessels  lying  in  the  stream,  and 
others  drawn  up  on  the  shore.  A  few  Moorish  guards  were 
moving  lazily  about  among  groups  of  sailors  and  Bedouins, 
who  were  bivouacing  for  the  night  on  the  sand.  The  gates 
were  closed,  as  were  those  of  the  opposite  city  of  Rabat,  but 
the  hum  of  life  still  rose  from  within,  and  floated  on  the  air 
over  the  stillness  of  the  river. 

The  rover  recognized  his  galley  among  the  vessels  drawn 
up  on  the  sand.  All  was  dark  and  quiet  on  board  of  her.  He 
climbed  up  her  side,  and  crossing  her  deck,  entered  the  cabin, 
the  door  of  which  stood  ajar.  The  noise  of  his  footsteps 
awakened  Selim,  who  starting  up,  recognized  the  first  tones  of 
his  master's  voice. 

Hassan  bade  him  to  strike  a  light ;  and  then  proceeded  to 
question  him  as  to  the  condition  of  the  galley  and  crew. 

18* 


418 


THE      BERBER. 


"  The  men,"  replied  Selim,  "  are  all  anxiously  expecting 
your  return.  They  have  spent  their  last  mouzouna,  and  are 
now  ready  for  another  cruise." 

"  And  what  do  people  say  of  my  stay  in  Mequinez  ?"  de 
manded  Hassan. 

"  There  is  some  wonder  at  your  remaining  so  long,"  re 
plied  Selim ;  "  but  they  think  that  it  is  the  favor  of  the  sol  tan. 
which  detains  you." 

"  Is  nothing  said  of  my  brother  ?" 

"  Nothing,"  said  Selim.  "  No  one  seems  to  have  heard 
anything  about  him." 

"  And  how  of  my  flight  from  the  city  with  the  kaid  of 
the  gates  1"  asked  Hassan.  "  Have  you  visited  the  baths  and 
coffee-houses,  as  I  ordered  ?" 

"  This  evening  I  have  been  the  rounds  of  the  city,  and  not 
a  word  of  reproach  could  I  gather  against  the  name  of  Hassan 
Herach.  Nothing  is  known  that  my  lord  would  wish  to  have 
unknown ;  and  he  can  sleep  without  fear." 

The  rais  felt  his  mind  relieved  from  a  weight  of  apprehen 
sion  as  he  listened  to  the  assurances  of  the  trusty  Selim.  He 
had  feared  that  orders  might  have  been  dispatched  from  the 
court  to  prevent  his  leaving  the  port,  or  that  at  least  rumors 
of  his  collusion  with  the  Berber  and  Abdallah  might  have 
reached  Salee,  and  that  he  should  be  obliged  to  encounter  the 
suspicions  of  the  citizens  and  authorities.  He  was  well 
pleased,  therefore,  to  find  that  he  should  meet  with  no  difficul 
ty  in  manning  his  galley,  and  that  no  objections  would  be  made 
to  his  putting  to  sea.  Hassan  retired  to  his  couch,  and  if,  des 
pite  the  fatigue  of  his  journey,  his  meditations  kept  him 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  419 

awake  during  the  greater  portion  of  the  night,  his  relations  to 
the  citizens  and  authorities  of  Salee  had  but  little  to  do 
with  it. 

Morning  came,  and  brought  with  it  to  the  inhabitants  of 
that  nest  of  pirates  the  announcement  that  the  famous  rover 
had  returned,  and  was  about  to  get  his  galley  ready  for  sea. 
The  excitement  was  intense.  The  whole  town  flocked  to  the 
beach  to  see  the  man  who  had  faced  the  soltan  in  his  meshou- 
ra,  and  had  come  off  unharmed.  His  former  feats  were  forgot 
ten  in  the  greater  glory  of  his  recent  achievements  at  the  court. 
The  authorities  of  the  town  rushed  to  tender  their  compli 
ments  and  services  to  one  who  had  been  honored  by  a  present 
of  the  imperial  haick — one  who  had,  as  it  was  supposed,  in 
fluence  enough  to  procure  the  punishment  of  the  saintly  kaid 
of  the  slaves,  and  who,  if  offended,  might  see  fit  to  bring  some 
of  the  same  influence  to  bear  upon  themselves. 

Hassan  was  offered  the  choice  of  all  the  slaves  in  the 
bagnios  for  the  oar — a  privilege  of  which  he  availed  himself 
to  pick  out  a  full  complement,  composed  of  English,  Danes, 
Swedes,  and  Hollanders.  His  preference  for  the  inhabitants 
of  the  northern  part  of  Europe  was  noted  at  the  time,  and 
commented  on  as  affording  indications  of  a  long  northern 
cruise.  It  was  also  noted,  but  without  exciting  any  suspicion 
as  to  his  motives,  that  although  he  could  have  shipped  as  large 
a  crew  as  the  size  of  the  galley  would  admit,  he  contented 
himself  with  less  than  half  the  usual  number  of  men,  and 
those  not  the  best  that  offered  themselves. 

The  energy  with  which  Hassan  pushed  forward  his  prepa 
rations  prevailed  over  the  usual  dilatory  and  procrastinating 


420  THE     BERBER. 

habits  of  the  Moors ;  and  in  less  than  a  week  from  the  time 
of  his  return,  the  galley  was  thoroughly  overhauled,  and  the 
damage  she  had  suffered  in  the  late  action  repaired.  She 
was  caulked ;  furnished  with  new  yards  and  rigging,  and  her 
cabin  fitted  up  with  a  degree  of  luxury  that  had  never  before 
been  known.  Her  provisions  and  ammunition  were  got  in; 
her  slaves  brought  on  board  and  chained ;  and  at  high  tide  she 
was  hauled  out  from  the  sand  into  the  stream. 

The  impatience  of  the  rover  would  not  allow  him  to  lose 
a  single  tide,  and  to  the  astonishment  of  the  thousands 
thronging  the  beach  and  covering  the  battlements  and  roofs 
of  the  two  cities,  the  sweeps  were  put  out,  and  the  galley 
pressed  for  the  bar,  over  which  she  passed,  although  the  water 
was  falling,  without  touching,  under  the  skilful  guidance  of  her 
commander.  As  soon  as  she  was  clear  of  the  breakers  her 
oars  were  taken  from  the  water,  her  lateen  yard  hoisted,  and 
away  she  danced  before  the  favoring  wind,  leaving  conjecture 
as  to  the  objects  of  the  cruise  busy  behind  her. 

From  the  port  of  Salee  to  the  mouth  of  the  straits  of 
Gibraltar  is  a  distance  of  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles. 
Light  but  favorable  winds  enabled  the  galley  to  run  this  dis 
tance,  despite  the  strong  current  that  generally  sets  adown  the 
African  coast,  in  less  than  two  days.  Upon  rounding  cape 
Spartel  however,  the  wind  changed,  and  blew  strongly  from 
the  east.  To  work  into  the  straits,  it  was  necessary 'to  get 
out  the  sweeps ;  and  after  some  hours'  hard  labor  the  gal 
ley  was  abreast  of  Tangier.  Hassan  gladly  availed  himself 
of  the  excuse  offered  by  the  wind  to  run  in  and  anchor  behind 
the  ruins  of  the  magnificent  mole,  which  was  blown  up  by  the 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  421 

English  when,  in  the  time  of  Charles  II,  the  town  was  aban 
doned  by  them.     An  opportunity  was  thus  offered  him  to  dis 
patch  another  message  to  the  Berber,  informing  him  of  his4 
having  succeeded,  without  hindrance  or  suspicion,  in  getting 
his  galley  to  sea. 

As  soon  as  the  wind  changed  the  galley  got  again  under 
way,  and  stood  to  the  east  towards  the  Mediterranean,  thus 
disappointing  the  predictions  of  her  officers  and  men  as  to  her 
North  Atlantic  destination.  She  crept  along  the  African  shore, 
passing  Ceuta — then,  as  now,  a  Spanish  port  of  strength — and 
entering  the  Mediterranean,  followed  the  sudden  bend  of  the 
coast  for  some  twenty  or  thirty  miles,  until  she  reached  the 
port  of  the  flourishing  town  of  Tetuan. 

The  town  itself  lay  at  a  distance  of  three  or  four  miles  from 
the  shore,  and  only  a  single  building,  for  the  officers  of  the  cus 
toms,  indicated  the  port.  There  were  no  batteries  that  could 
be  brought  to  bear  upon  the  galley,  and  no  means  in  the  power 
of  the  authorities  by  which  they  could  control  her  freedom  of 
movement.  Hassan  ordered  the  anchor  to  be  dropped,  and  to 
the  great  astonishment  of  his  crew  announced  his  intention  of 
remaining  thus  at  rest  for  several  days.  A  pause  of  which  we 
will  take  advantage  to  say  a  few  words  in  relation  to  the  con 
figurations  of  the  principal  geographical  feature  of  Morocco — 
the  Atlas. 

But  little  is  known  of  the  great  mountain  chain  that  goes 
by  this  name,  particularly  the  loftier  portions  of  it  belonging 
to  Morocco,  from  the  direct  observation  of  Christian  travellers. 
In  Algiers,  the  French  are  daily  improving  in  a  knowledge 
of  it,  but  nothing  can  be  expected  from  them  beyond  the 


422 


THE     BERBER. 


boundaries  of  their  own  province.  By  the  ancients,  the  Atlas 
was  probably  better  understood  than  it  is  in  the  present  day. 
Suetonious  Paulinus  first  crossed  it,  and  after  him  several 
Roman  captains,  and  military  stations  were  established  on 
some  of  the  plateaus;  but  we  are  little  better  for  the 
knowledge  thus  derived.  On  two  or  three  occasions  the  range 
has  been  crossed  by  travellers  in  modern  times.  As  for  in 
stance,  by  Caillie,  in  his  route  from  Timbuctoo,  through  Tafilet 
to  Fez ;  and  by  Jackson,  in  traversing  one  of  the  two  lofty  and 
dangerous  passes,  Belaven  and  Bebavan,  through  which  run  the 
roads  from  Soos  to  Morocco.  From  these  scanty  sources ;  from 
the  observations  and  speculations  of  writers  who  had  an  oppor 
tunity  of  seeing  the  Atlas  only  from  a  distance,  and  from  the 
reports  of  the  natives,  who  are  themselves  grossly  ignorant  of 
the  extent  and  configuration  of  the  whole  system,  with  its 
numerous  offsets  and  lateral  ranges,  our  whole  knowledge  is 
derived.  A  few  facts  are,  however,  pretty  well  ascertained,  such 
as  the  general  direction  of  the  great  chain,  and  its  great  eleva 
tion  ;  but  in  regard  to  the  smaller  ranges  and  spurs,  except  that 
range  running  between  the  Great  Atlas  and  the  shores  of  the 
Mediterranean,  known  as  the  Little  Atlas,  the  statements  are  so 
contradictory  that  no  confidence  can  be  placed  in  them.  No 
two  maps,  unless  the  one  has  been  copied  from  the  other,  co 
incide.  No  two  geographers  agree  in  any  clear  and  consistent 
description.  If  the  reader,  however,  will  bear  in  mind  the 
general  shape  of  the  north-western  corner  of  Africa,  we  will 
try  to  convey  an  idea  sufficiently  definite  for  our  purposes. 

The  Atlantic  coast  of  Morocco  runs  northerly  from  the 
Desert  to  Cape  Spartel.     The  Mediterranean  coast  of  Barbary 


A     TALE     OF     MOROcCO.  423 

runs  nearly  east  and  west — the  two  meeting  at  the  straits  of 
Gibraltar,  and  forming  nearly  a  right  angle.  On  the  shores  of 
the  Atlantic,  just  below  Mogadore,  some  three  hundred  and 
fifty  or  sixty  miles  below  the  straits,  commences  the  great 
ridge  of  the  Atlas.  For  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  it 
runs  due  east,  directly  in  from  the  coast,  until  it  reaches  the 
city  of  Morocco,  around  which  it  curves  at  the  distance  of  a 
few  leagues,  and  assumes  a  northerly  direction.  Here  occur 
some  of  the  highest  peaks.  Thirty  miles  south-east  of  the 
city  is  the  Miltsen,  which  Lieutenant  Washington  found,  upon 
measurement,  to  be  14,400  feet  in  height ;  further  on  the  course 
of  the  range  are  several  higher  summits,  estimated  by  Ali  Bey 
and  Graberg  de  Hemson,  to  be  15,000  feet  above  the  level  of 
the  sea. 

Having  fairly  rounded  the  city  of  Morocco,  the  range  runs 
nearly  due  north,  and  parallel  with  the  Atlantic  coast,  until  it 
reaches  to  within  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  of  the  Me 
diterranean,  when  it  bifurcates,  one  prong  curving  to  the 
north-east,  and  reaching  that  sea  at  the  cape  of  Tres  Forces, 
near  the  town  of  Milella ;  the  other  curves  to  the  west,  and 
terminates  in  the  Djebel  d'Azute,  or  Apes  Hill,  on  the  straits 
of  Gibraltar.  The  first  we  will  consider  the  proper  continua 
tion  of  the  great  range,  in  which  case  its  line  of  direction  will 
describe  a  graceful-shaped  curve  from  Cape  Geer,  on  the  Atlan 
tic,  to  Milella,  on  the  Mediterranean.  The  other  will  then  be 
an  offset  of  the  main  chain.  It  must  be  observed,  however, 
that  geographers  do  not  allow  the  title  of  Great  Atlas  to  be 
continued  to  the  north-easterly  curve  terminating  at  Milella. 
This  honor  is  given  to  another  range,  which  runs  due  east, 


424  THE     BERBER. 

through  the  provinces  of  Algiers  and  Tunis.  A  parallel  range, 
called  the  Little  Atlas,  runs  between  it  and  the  Mediterranean. 
How  and  where  the  range  of  the  Great  Atlas  connects  with 
the  chain  of  the  high  Atlas  of  Morocco  is  not  very  well  ascer 
tained.  It  has  been  supposed,  that  shortly  after  passing  the 
city  of  Morocco,  the  line  of  high  summits  turns  off  due  east, 
and  becomes  the  Great  Atlas  of  Algiers  and  Tunis.  But  it  is 
probable  that  the  continuity  of  the  two  crests  is  broken  by 
the  interposition  of  smaller  ranges,  and  by  the  Desert  of  An- 
gad — a  district  of  whose  geography  very  little  is  known. 

On  either  side  of  the  higher  ranges  are  numerous  smaller 
ones,  besides  many  irregular  offsets  and  spurs ;  so  that  the 
whole  system  occupies  an  estimated  extent  of  five  hundred 
thousand  square  miles — an  area  equal  to  France,  Germany 
and  Italy  combined. 

In  form  the  Atlas  differs  very  much  from  the  Alps.  The 
crests  are  more  round  and  regular,  and  there  is  a  striking  ten 
dency  to  the  formation  of  plateaus  and  terraces  upon  the 
slopes.  This  conformation  renders  the  Atlas  much  better 
fitted  for  the  support  of  a  numerous  population. 

But  it  is  not  our  purpose  to  detain  the  reader  with  a  com 
plete  description  of  the  Atlas,  and  we  will  return  to  the  only 
fact  that  is  of  any  real  importance  to  our  story — the  bifurca 
tion  of  the  high  range  of  Morocco,  in  the  latitude  of  Salee, 
and  the  sweeping  around  Fez  and  Mequinez,  and  down  to  the 
straits  of  Gibraltar,  of  one  of  the  offsets.  The  town  of  Tetu- 
an,  situated  just  within  the  straits,  lies  at  the  foot  of  these 
hills,  and  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  Errcef  — a  dis 
trict  inhabited  by  a  pure  Berber  population.  From  this  point 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  425 

communication  could  be  had  with  the  Beui  Mozarg,  without 
leaving  the  hills,  or  without  being  compelled  to  cross  any  dis 
trict  inhabited  by  Arabs  or  Moors.  This  port  had  been  select 
ed,  therefore,  by  the  Berber  and  the  rais  as  the  safest  point 
of  embarkation  for  the  sisters.  It  had  been  arranged  that  the 
latter  should  bring  his  galley  around  into  the  Mediterranean, 
and  lie  in  wait  at  this  spot,  ready  to  receive  them,  while  the  for 
mer  should  undertake  to  escort  them,  under  cover  of  the  hills 
and  through  a  Berber  population,  to  the  coast.  It  was  in  ac 
cordance  with  this  plan,  which  had  been  settled  in  a  long  con 
ference  during  the  last  night  at  the  ruins  of  the  Romi,  that 
Hassan  was  now  at  anchor  off  the  mouth  of  the  Kheus,  a  lit 
tle  river  forming  the  port  of  Tetuan. 


426  THE     BERBER. 


CHAPTER    XXXVI. 


LEAVING  Hassan  in  his  secure  and  well  chosen  position  at 
the  foot  of  the  Reefean  mountains,  we  will  return  for  awhile 
to  the  kassir,  or  berdj,  of  Casbin  Subah. 

And  what  shall  we  say  1  What  shall  we  leave  unsaid  1 
What  can  we  do  with  a  party  of  contented  and  happy 
lovers  under  such  circumstances  ?  Describe  every  movement, 
thought,  and  feeling'?  Give  every  phrase  of  compliment — • 
every  expression  of  passion  ?  Dwell  upon  looks,  tones,  and 
sentiments  1  Luckily,  ours  is  not  a  story  of  drawing-room 
life.  Such  details  are  not  necessary  to  swell  a  page  or  to  ela 
borate  a  plot ;  and  we  can,  therefore,  leave  much  that  passed 
during  that  happy  and  uneventful  week  to  the  imagination  of 
the  reader. 

Isabel,  alone,  of  all  the  party,  had  any  drawback  upon 
her  happiness ;  the  absence  of  the  rais  she  felt  had  left 
forawhile  a  blank  space  in  her  existence ;  a  blank,  however, 
which  she  managed  partly  to  fill  with  many  a  fond  regret, 
many  a  tender  emotion,  and  many  a  loving  hope  and  pray 
er.  Not  that  she  was  at  all  melancholy  or  dispirited,  or  in 
capable  of  sharing  the  pleasures  of  her  companions.  Though 
feminine  and  affectionate  in  her  character,  she  was  far 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  427 

from  being  weak,  and  there  was  nothing  in  a  temporary  separa 
tion  from  her  lover  that  would  have  caused  or  excused  any 
marked  depression  of  spirits.  She  could  not  but  feel  some 
what  of  exhilaration  arising  from  a  sense  of  perfect  safety 
after  so  long  a  subjection  to  the  tyranny  of  fear.  She  could 
not  but  participate  in  the  enjoyment  of  her  sister  and  Xaripha. 
She  could  not  but  feel  the  influence  of  the  mountain  scenery 
in  which  she  found  herself.  But  could  Hassen  have  been  at 
her  side  !  Oh,  how  much  more  intense  every  sentiment  and 
emotion !  As  it  was,  time  passed  her  pleasantly,  but  so 
leisurely  that  she  could  count  the  plumes  in  his  pinions.  Had 
Hassan  been  there,  time  had  passed  her  so  swiftly t that  she 
would  not  have  seen  him  at  all.  Not  have  seen  him  any  more 
than  did  Xaripha,  who  in  truth  could  see  nothing  except 
Edward  Carlyle.  Luckily  Edward  was  equally  blind,  or  rather 
similarly  one-sighted,  and  found  all  his  powers  of  vision  ex 
hausted  on  the  object  of  his  affections. 

This  state  of  affairs  left  Juanita  and  the  Berber  very  much 
to  themselves,  affording  him  an  opportunity  of  studying  more 
closely  the  character  of  the  young  girl,  and  of  gradually  dissi 
pating  those  prudential  objections,  or  rather  reasons  of  State, 
as  they  would  have  been  called  in  the  parlance  of  European 
courts,  which  offered  themselves  at  first  to  the  decisions  of  his 
fancy.  Not  that  the  young  chief  was  hampered  by  the  neces 
sity  of  consulting  the  opinions  of  any  one  but  himself.  His 
amgars  and  wise  men  bowed  to  his  will  in  all  things.  Unlike 
the  Moors,  or  even  their  neighbors  of  the  surrounding  tribes,  the 
Mozarg  held  women  in  the  highest  esteem.  Under  the  influence 
of  their  early  Christian  training,  they  looked  upon  the  marriage 


428  THE     BERBER. 

relation  as  sacred,  and  prided  themselves  upon  being  the  strict 
est  monogamists.  Their  prince  could  have  but  one  wife,  and 
they  were  not  unwilling  that  he  should  choose  her  for  himself. 
Their  only  anxiety  was  least  he  should  not  marry  at  all,  in 
which  case,  as  Casbin  was  the  only  survivor  of  his  family,  the 
tribes  would  be  left  without  a  legitimate  Amekranelarsh. 
The  inevitable  consequences  of  which  would  be  a  division  of 
the  tribe  into  families,  under  independent  amgars,  and  a  never- 
ending  succession  of  strifes  and  bloodshed,  where  now  all  was 
union  and  peace. 

The  closer  the  study  of  the  young  girl's  character  was  pur 
sued,  the  stronger  grew  Casbin's  conviction  that  the  decisions 
of  his  fancy  and  affection  were  fully  supported  by  the  calmest 
judgment  that  he  could  bring  to  bear  upon  the  subject.  And 
as  this  conviction  grew,  his  manner  changed.  The  sprightly 
affectations  of  gallantry  were  laid  aside.  The  boyish  im 
petuosity  and  impertinance  with  which  he  had  tried  her  cha 
racter,  and  at  times  her  temper,  were  repressed.  His  bear 
ing  became  earnest  and  profoundly  respectful.  And  this 
change  of  external  manner  corresponded  to  a  similar  change 
within.  The  soul  of  the  Berber  glowed  with  a  new  feeling,  a 
profounder  sentiment,  a  loftier  passion,  the  instant  that  the 
objections  interposed  by  reason  and  prudence  had  been  dissi 
pated.  Before  that  he  had  kept  his  feelings  in  subjection;  he 
loved  Juanita  from  the  first,  but  not  with  his  whole  heart — not 
that  he  sought  to  resist  her  influence ;  to  blind  himself  to  the 
charms  of  her  free  unaffected  and  spirited  manner;  to  avert 
his  eyes  from  the  dazzling  glare  of  her  beauty.  He  had  re 
strained  his  passion  rather  by  the  exercise  upon  himself  of  his 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  429 

own  will.  He  knew  that  he  could  not  afford  to  give  the  reins 
to  passion,  and  let  loose  his  whole  nature  without  being  sure  in 
every  particular  of  his  ground.  Frequently  the  exercise  of  this 
kind  of  prudential  control  over  the  feelings  indicates  that  the 
feelings  are  not  very  strong ;  but  in  Casbin  the  case  was  dif 
ferent  ;  he  understood  the  wants  and  the  capacities  of  his  own 
heart.  He  was  introspective  by  habit  and  nature ;  he  looked 
into  himself  as  one  looks  into  the  crater  of  a  volcano,  and  he 
was  afraid — afraid  of  the  elements  ready  for  eruption  within. 
Instinctively  he  knew  that  if  he  suffered  the  lava  of  passion  to 
become  thoroughly  heated,  its  course  must  be  smooth  and 
true,  or  the  wildest  and  widest  desolation  would  follow  in  its 
track. 

The  weather  continued  fair,  although  around  the  high 
peaks  of  the  Atlas  the  clouds  began  to  gather  more  thickly, 
and  the  upper  strata  of  the  air  were  frequently  streaked  with 
feathery  films  of  vapor.  The  bracing  air  invited  to  exercise, 
and  each  day  excursions  were  made  to  points  of  interest. 
Now  to  some  secluded  valley,  some  picturesque  waterfall, 
some  lofty  peak,  or  some  haunted  cavern  ;  and  now  to  some 
village  of  the  Mozarg,  or  to  some  remains  of  former  Berber 
power. 

The  courts  and  halls  of  the  birdj  presented  scenes  of 
continued  festivity  and  bustle.  Ih  addition  to  the  usual  ser 
vants  and  guards  of  the  castle,  there  were  assembled  a  large 
number  of  soldiers — some  mounted  and  some  on  foot — hunts 
men  with  packs  of  tall,  strong  boar-hounds ;  musicians  and 
story-tellers  ;  jugglers  and  serpent  charmers ;  travelling  arti- 
zans  with  their  rude  instruments  and  tools,  and  Jew  pedlars 


430  THE     BERBER. 

with  fabrics  of  Moorish  and  European  manufacture ;  and  min 
gling  with  these  were  crowds  of  good  looking  dames  and  dam 
sels  in  their  picturesque,  although  somewhat  scanty,  costume. 
Deputations,  composed  of  Amgars  from  the  Beni  Gurin,  the 
Guernid,  the  Razin,  the  Timor,  the  Yeder,  were  in  attendance, 
together  with  representations  of  the  slender-framed  Shelloch 
of  the  southern  Atlas,  and  the  dark  scowling  Kabyle  of  Al 
giers  and  Tunis. 

Isabel  did  not  ride  very  boldly,  and  Xaripha  could  trust 
herself  only  to  the  slow  paces  of  a  steady  mule,  but  Juanita, 
mounted  on  Boroon,  scoured  the  country  in  all  directions, 
very  much  to  the  admiration  of  the  mountaineers,  among 
whom  a  diversity  of  opinion  obtained,  as  to  whether  she  was 
a  European  angel,  a  Moorish  djin,  or  one  of  their  own  moun 
tain  spirits. 

Under  the  greenwood  tree  has  ever  been  a  favorite  spot 
for  the  conferences  of  lovers ;  and,  as  may  be  supposed,  Cas- 
bin  improved  his  frequent  opportunities.  He  said  nothing  of 
his  passion,  but  he  exerted  himself  to  enlighten  Juanita  on  all 
those  points  that  could  influence  her  final  decision.  He  un 
folded  himself,  his  plans,  and  his  hopes.  He  told  her  of  the 
peculiar  circumstances  of  parentage  and  education  that  had 
made  him  what  he  was.  He  represented  distinctly  the  wide 
interval  that  separated  himself  from  the  most  cultivated  of  his 
tribe,  and  the  still  wider  interval  that  separated  his  tribe  from 
the  more  barbarous  tribes  surrounding  them.  He  let  her  see 
clearly  that  if  she  decided  to  connect  her  fate  with  his,  that  to 
him  alone  could  she  look  for  sympathy  and  companionship. 
Casbin  intended  to  be  just  and  generous,  without  thinking  for 


A    TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  431 

a  moment  that,  with  such  a  character  as  Juanita,  he  was 
taking  the  most  effective  way  of  enlisting  and  exciting  to  the 
utmost  every  feeling  of  her  heart. 

Juanita  was  returning  to  the  kassir  at  the  close  of  a  day 
spent  in  hunting  the  wild  boar.  Casbin  was  by  her  side.  In 
the  course  of  the  day  the  beaters  had  aroused  a  "  father  of 
tusks,"  and  in  the  pursuit,  Isabel  and  Xaripha  had  been  left 
far  behind.  The  monster,  after  fighting  his  way  for  miles, 
killing  a  number  of  dogs  and  desperately  wounding  several 
horses  and  men,  at  length  encountered  the  spear  of  the  young 
chief,  and  received  the  dexterous  and  vigorous  thrust  in 
his  heart. 

The  sun  was  near  the  horizon,  the  deep  shadows  of  the 
valleys  contrasted  beautifully  with  the  golden  glow  of  the 
sunlit  summits ;  the  air  was  clear,  and  the  sounds  of  horns 
blown  in  triumph  by  the  huntsmen,  the  barking  and  yelping 
of  dogs,  and  the  shouts  of  the  mountaineers,  floated  in  joyous 
chorus  upon  it.  The  heart  of  the  young  girl  swelled  with  a 
sense  of  intense  enjoyment.  In  many  cases,  the  mere  feeling 
of  life — healthy  vigorous  life — affords  the  most  exquisite  plea 
sure.  If  to  this  is  added  the  delights  of  natural  beauty  and 
the  exhilaration  of  satisfied  love,  the  highest  degree  of  happi 
ness  that  this  world  can  know  is  attained. 

But  as  a  swift,  smooth  current  needs  some  obstacle  of  rock 
or  bank  to  indicate  its  force  and  rapidity,  so  does  the  current 
of  happiness  require  occasionally  some  slight  interruption  to 
show  how  deep  and  swift  the  flow.  Juanita  might  not  have 
known  how  happy  she  was,  had  it  not  been  for  an  announce 
ment  that  a  Reefean  had  arrived  from  Tangier,  and  wished  to 
speak  with  the  Berber  cln'ef. 


432  THE     BERBER. 

"  Bid  him  approach,"  replied  Casbin.  "  This  must  be,"  he 
continued,  turning  to  Juanita,  "  a  messenger  from  the  rais. 
Let  us  dismount,  senorita,  and  receive  it.  Here,  seat  yourself 
upon  this  bank  of  earth,  where  through  yon  glade  you  get  a 
view  of  the  golden  crowned  head  of  the  king  of  the  Atlas." 

In  a  few  minutes  a  wild,  dark  looking  Berber,  from  the 
neighborhood  of  Tituan,  advanced,  and  amid  a  profusion  of 
compliments  and  expressions  of  respect,  drew  from  his  girdle 
a  letter. 

Satisfying  himself  that  the  man  was  the  bearer  of  no  ver 
bal  message,  Casbin  committed  him  to  the  charge  of  an  officer, 
with  orders  to  provide  for  his  entertainment,  and  then,  when 
all  had  departed,  deliberately  proceeded  to  open  the  note.  Its 
contents  consisted  of  only  a  few  words  in  Spanish,  apprizing 
the  Berber  that  the  writer  had  succeeded  in  getting  his  vessel 
to  sea,  and  that  in  a  day  or  two  he  should  be  at  anchor  off  Ti 
tuan,  with  every  preparation  made  for  the  consummation  of 
their  scheme. 

The  Berber,  without  a  word,  handed  the  note  to  his 
companion. 

"  When  shall  we  set  out  to  meet  him  *?"  demanded 
Juanita. 

"  To-morrow  morning." 

"  And  the  roads  that  we  shall  pursue  are  safe  ?" 

"Perfectly  so,  senorita.  My  presence  will  secure  you 
from  all  danger.  But,  Juanita,  you  do  not  seem  to  be  as 
elated  at  the  receipt  of  this  good  news  as  one  might  expect." 

The  young  girl  made  no  reply.  Her  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
the  ground,  and  a  tear  trembled  between  the  long  black  lashes. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  433 

She  stirred  not  as  the  Berber,  moving  closer  to  her  side,  pass 
ed  his  arm  around  her  waist,  and  drew  her  to  him. 

"  Juanita,"  he  whispered,  "  dearest  Juanita,  will  you  stay 
with  me  ?  Will  you  leave  your  sister  ?  Will  you  make 
this  rude  country  your  home  ?  Will  you  be  my  wife "?" 

"  Your  wife  !"  exclaimed  Juanita,  starting  and  glancing  up 
with  a  look  of  passionate  fondness.  But  again  her  eyes  fell, 
and  a  shade  of  anxiety  crossed  her  face. 

"  Yes,  my  wife  !"  replied  Casbin.  "  Nay,  Juanita,  I  know 
your  thought.  You  think  that  on  this  side  of  the  straits  the 
marriage  relation  is  a  loose  and  an  indefinite  one.  But  you  for 
get  that  we  are  not  the  followers  of  El  Islam.  We  are  Chris 
tians  ;  and  a  plurality  of  wives  is  as  strictly  forbidden  by  the 
customs  of  the  Beni  Mozarg  as  in  your  own  Spain.  But  were 
it  not  so,  hear  me  swear  that  I  should  ever  remain  faithful 
to  you,  and  to  you  alone.  Tis  not  from  mere  fancy  or  passion 
that  I  ask  you.  Deeply,  devotedly  as  I  now  love  you,  I  have 
other  reasons  for  making  you  my  wife.  I  have  told  you,  Jua 
nita,  how  my  boyish  ambition  was  first  fired  by  the  story  of 
Iskandar,  who  had  hardly  attained  manhood  when  he  had  con 
quered  a  world.  But  did  I  tell  you  how  1  resolved  to  make 
him  a  warning,  as  well  as  an  example  ?  How  that,  inasmuch 
as  mine  is  a  harder  task,  having  to  create  many  of  the  ele 
ments  of  empire ;  I  resolved  to  make  my  passions  and  affec 
tions  the  veriest  slaves  of  my  will  ?  In  this  I  have  succeeded ; 
and  I  can  boldly  say  I  never  should  have  loved  you  as  I  do, 
or  that  loving  you,  I  never  should  have  dared  to  press  you  to 
this  point,  were  it  not  that  I  am  urged  to  it  by  a  conviction  of 
duty  to  my  cause  and  my  people.  Juanita,  I  have  need  of 

19 


434  THE     BERBER. 

you.  The  civilization  of  my  tribe — perhaps  of  the  Atlas — per 
haps  of  the  whole  of  Barbary — has  need  of  you.  Juanita,  you 
must  submit  to  that  destiny  which  links  your  fate  to  mine  I" 

The  young  girl  made  no  reply.  There  was  one  question 
she  longed  to  ask,  but  how  to  put  it  she  knew  not. 

"  Do  you  hesitate  ?"  exclaimed  Casbin.  "  'Tis  useless 

you  love  me you  know,  Juanita,  that  you  love  me 

you " 

"  Oh,  it  is  not  that,"  said  Juanita.  "  I  love  you,  I  am  afraid, 
too  well ;  but,  sefior,  in  my  country  a  sacrament  of  the  Church 
alone  consecrates  a  union  like  the  one  you  propose." 

"Ha!  is  that  the  difficulty,"  replied  the  Berber  gaily. 
"  Luckily,  'tis  one  easily  removed ;  we  will  have  ring,  book, 
and  priest.  But  I  pardon  your  suspicions,  Juanita,  and  I  honor 
your  scruples,  they  are  natural ;  and  if  you  were  dealing  with 
one  of  your  haughty,  proud,  pure-blooded  hidalgos,  they  would 
be  most  probably  just.  Here,  however,  in  the  mountains,  if 
we  are  lacking  in  some  of  the  refinements  of  European  civi 
lization,  we  are  also  free  from  some  of  the  vices.  You  will  be 
lieve  me,  Juanita,  when  I  say,  that  I  should  scorn  myself  if 
I  could  by  word  or  deed  deceive  you.  Had  I  not  proved  you 
pure  of  soul — had  I  found  reason  to  think  you  as  light-o'love  as 
many  of  your  countrywomen,  I  might  have  sought  you  on 
other  terms,  but  never  by  treachery  or  falsehood.  Banish 
your  doubts  then,  Juanita,  we  will  be  married  all  in  due  form 
by  one  of  the  Fathers  of  the  Redemption  at  Tetuan.  They 
will  be  satisfied  with  my  Christianity.  In  Spain  I  might  have 
some  difficult  questions  to  answer;  but  here  they  will  never 
stop  to  inquire  whether  I  am  a  true  son  of  the  Church  or  not." 


A    TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  43r 

"And  Isabel!  poor  Isabel !"  murmured  Juauita.  "What 
•will  become  of  her  ?" 

"Why  poor  Isabel1?"  replied  Casbin.  "She  will  marrj 
Hassan,  and  be  none  the  less  content  to  go  with  him  to  Eng 
land,  than  you  are  to  remain  here  with  me.  But  see,  the  sun 
is  kissing  those  blushing  clouds  good  night ;  we  must  mount 
and  gallop  to  reach  home  before  twilight  fades ;  and  you  have 
become,  dearest  Juanita,  too  precious  a  charge  to  be  trusted 
even  to  Boroon,  in  the  darkness." 

The  short  twilight  lasted  until  the  lovers  reached  the 
kassir,  on  the  drawbridge  of  which  Isabel  and  Xaripha,  with 
Abdallah  and  Edward,  stood  waiting.  Supper  was  served  in  the 
great  hall  of  the  principal  pavilion,  a  long  and  lofty  room  open 
to  the  roof,  which  was  composed  of  heavy  rafters,  carved  and 
painted  in  brilliant  colors,  and  on  the  outside  covered  with 
tiles  of  sun-baked  clay.  At  the  upper  eiid  of  the  room  the 
floor  was  raised  a  foot  or  two  above  the  level  of  the  rest  of  the 
apartment,  and  over  this  raised  portion  was  suspended  a  canopy 
of  red  silk.  Beneath  this  canopy  Casbin  sat  with  his  guests, 
while  the  rest  of  the  hall  below  was  occupied  by  his  officers 
and  courtiers.  Those  highest  in  rank  sat,  some  upon  carpets, 
and  some  upon  skins,  nearest  to  the  upper  end  of  the  room ; 
while  those  of  inferior  degree  crowded  still  farther  down  upon 
the  bare  stone  floor.  Slaves,  bearing  large  loaves  of  bread  and 
huge  dishes  of  baked  meats,  entered  and  deposited  their  bur 
dens  before  the  hungry  guests,  who  with  little  ceremony  fell 
to,  very  much  in  the  Moorish  style,  with  the  exception,  that 
in  addition  to  the  fingers,  a  wooden  spoon  appeared  to  be 
more  generally  hi  use. 


436  THE     BERBER. 

Supper  finished,  Casbin  communicated  the  message  of  the 
rais,  when,  after  a  short  consultation,  it  was  resolved  to  set 
out  without  delay  for  the  coast.  Horses  and  mules,  guards 
and  attendants,  were  ordered  to  be  ready  at  break  of  day, 
and  the  maidens  retired  to  their  couches  to  prepare  for  an 
early  start. 


A     TALE     OP     MOROCCO.  437 


CHAPTER    XXXVII 


FIVE  or  six  days  followed,  during  which  the  travellers 
pursued  their  devious  way  through  the  mountains.  Carefully 
avoiding  those  districts  inhabited  by  tribes  with  whom  his  in 
fluence  was  doubtful,  Casbin  led  his  companions  through  some 
of  the  most  romantic  and  beautiful  scenery  of  the  Atlas. 
The  people,  as  they  passed,  although  in  general  bigoted  fol 
lowers  of  Islam,  treated  them  respectfully,  and  received  them 
into  their  villages  and  douahs  with  every  mark  of  considera 
tion  and  kindness.  Their  progress  was  slow,  from  the  neces 
sity  of  frequent  conferences  with  the  Amgars,  or  wise  men 
of  the  tribes,  who  would  still  believe,  despite  Casbin's  assu 
rances  to  the  contrary,  that  his  journey  had  some  grand  poli 
tical  object — the  extirpation  of  the  Arabs  and  Turks  from 
Barbary,  at  least ;  if  not  the  re-conquest  of  Spain,  and  tho 
establishment  of  Berber  dominion  in  all  Europe. 

Emerging  from  a  gorge  in  the  hills,  the  travellers  cams 
out  on  to  a  little  plateau,  from  which  they  could  look  dowr 
upon  the  Mediterranean,  lying  almost  at  their  feet.  Away  tG 
the  west  stretched  the  undulating  line  of  coast  towards  the 
bold  promontory  of  Tres  Forcets.  To  the  left,  and  at  the  dis 
tance  of  only  three  or  four  miles,  lay  the  town  of  Tetuan,  and, 


438  THE     BERBER. 

directly  in  front,  its  open  roadstead,  where  quietly  at  anchor 
floated  the  galley  of  the  rais. 

The  level  ground  of  the  plateau  was  covered  with  ruins. 
Fragments  of  columns,  arches,  and  walls  were  scattered 
around,  partly  buried  in  the  earth,  and  partly  concealed  by 
bushes  and  vines.  A  small  roofless  building,  but  with  walls 
in  good  preservation,  alone  remained.  This  building  bore  evi 
dences  in  its  shape  of  having  been  a  Christian  church,  and 
such,  Casbin  asserted,  it  was  well  known  to  be  from  both  histo 
ry  and  tradition.  A  few  wretched  Berbers  had  erected  their 
stone  huts  against  the  walls,  but  a  certain  traditionary  re 
spect  for  the  sanctity  of  the  spot  had  kept  them  from  in 
vading  the  interior. 

In  front  of  this  church  or  chapel  the  Berber  ordered  the 
ground  to  be  cleared,  and  the  tents  pitched.  He  also  directed 
three  separate  piles  of  green  branches  to  be  prepared  and 
fired  ;  and  soon  as  many  tall  columns  of  smoke  arose  from  the 
edge  of  the  plateau.  Selecting  the  most  active  and  intelligent 
looking  man  from  the  squalid  population  living  amid  the 
ruins,  he  despatched  him  to  the  beach,  with  directions  that  he 
should  watch  for  a  boat  from  the  galley,  and  offer  his  services 
as  a  guide  up  the  mountain  to  whosoever  it  should  bring 
ashore. 

While  Casbin  was  thus  employed,  Juanita  and  Xaripha, 
accompanied  by  Edward,  amused  themselves  in  an  examina 
tion  of  the  ruins.  Isabel  found  more  pleasant  occupation  in 
gazing  down  upon  the  galley  of  her  lover.  Seated  upon  a 
fallen  column,  she  had  a  long  conversation  with  Abdallah, 
who  could  ill  conceal  his  anxiety  in  regard  to  the  next  step  of 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  439 

their  journey.  He  knew  the  scheme  of  the  rais ;  but  much 
he  feared  that  something  would  occur  to  prevent  its  execution. 
He  hardly  dared  trust  the  hope  of  escape,  now  that  the  pros 
pect  of  it  was  so  near  at  hand. 

And  Hassan!  How  was  he  employed,  while  thus  the 
subject  of  conversation — almost  of  observation — to  the  Gadi- 
tana  and  the  Moor  ?  He  was  listlessly  pacing  the  deck  of  his 
galley,  occasionally  stopping  in  his  walk,  raising  his  eyes  to 
the  slopes  of  the  hills,  and  letting  them  rest  with  a  long  and 
anxious  glance  upon  the  white  walls  of  the  ruined  chapel. 

For  three  or  four  days  he  had  remained  at  anchor  waiting 
and  watching  in  vain  for  the  signal  that  had  been  agreed  upon 
between  himself  and  the  Berber.  The  wind  was  fair,  the 
weather  pleasant,  and  this  unusual  delay  caused  some  talk 
among  the  officers  and  crew,  but  Hassan  condescended  to  no 
explanation  or  excuse ;  and  as  they  had  liberty  ashore  freely 
allowed  them,  they  were  content  to  await  his  movements. 

As  Hassan  raised  his  eyes  to  the  ruins,  for  the  hundredth 
time  during  his  morning's  walk,  his  steps  were  arrested  at  the 
sight  of  a  large  column  of  smoke,  rising  upward  from  the  pla 
teau  against  the  dark  background  of  the  higher  hill.  He  rub 
bed  his  eyes,  and  looked  again — it  had  grown  larger  and  more 
steady.  At  a  little  distance  another  little  column  of  blue  began 
to  arise.  Hassan's  heart  leaped  tumultuously  in  his  breast. 
Another  one ! — and  the  signal  would  be  complete  ! 

"  Man  the  boat !"  he  shouted,  with  an  energy  that  startled 
the  sleeping  galley  slaves  from  their  benches.  "  Man  the  boat 
instantly."  And  Hassan  seized  the  painter  by  which  the  boat 
was  moored,  and  pulling  it  in,  sprang  into  the  stern-sheets. 


440  THE    BERBER. 

Many  of  the  crew  had  gone  ashore,  leaving  a  few  men  as  guards 
for  the  galley-slaves,  but  Hassan's  impatient  commands  ad 
mitted  of  no  delay.  The  boat  was  manned,  and  pushing  off 
from  the  galley,  rowed  rapidly  to  land.  Hassan  sprang  out  as 
the  bow  touched  the  shore,  and  stopping  merely  to  order  its 
return  to  the  galley,  he  set  out  over  the  beach  in  a  straight 
line  for  the  ruins. 

His  impatience  had  not  permitted  him  to  take  a  good 
observation  of  the  bearing  of  the  ruins  from  his  point  of  depar 
ture  on  the  shore,  and  he  soon  found  that  from  the  nature  of 
the  ground,  broken  as  it  was,  and  covered  with  bushes,  he 
could  not  make  a  direct  course,  nor  could  he  keep  the 
signals  in  view.  Luckily,  however,  before  he  had  wandered 
wide  he  met  the  mountaineer  who  had  been  despatched  by 
Casbin  to  guide  him.  The  fellow  had  seen  him  land,  and 
hastening  his  steps,  encountered  him  just  as  Hassan  found  him 
self  completely  at  fault.  Under  his  guidance  he  soon  passed 
the  three  or  four  miles  of  ascending  ground,  and  reached  the 
plateau. 

The  appearance  of  the  rais  was  hailed  with  a  shout  of  de 
light  ;  in  a  few  minutes  all  the  members  of  the  party  were 
gathered  around  him  in  joyful  salutation.  The  friendly  greet 
ings  finished,  the  conversation  subsided  into  a  continued  flow, 
which,  however,  was  at  length  interrupted  by  the  Berber,  who 
taking  Hassan  by  the  arm,  intimated  his  wish  to  speak  to  him 
apart. 

"  Your  galley  is  ready  for  the  reception  of  these  people  ?" 
inquired  Casbin,  as  the  rais  and  himself  took  a  seat  upon  a 
prostrate  marble  column. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  441 

"  The  Sea-Bird  waits  but  a  word  to  spread  her  wings  and 
fly,"  replied  Hassan,  "  and  that  word  I  shall  give  the  instant 
they  step  on  deck." 

"And  your  officers  and  men,  you  are  sure  of  your  ability 
to  deal  with  them  ?" 

"  I  have  arranged  it  all  so  that  there  will  be  no  difficulty  or 
trouble.  My  men  are  few,  and  the  greater  part  of  them  are 
ashore.  I  have  apprized  the  principal  galley-slaves  of  my  in 
tention  of  liberating  them  ;  sending  the  few  Moors  remain 
ing  on  board  ashore,  and  then  directing  our  course  to  some 
Christian  port.  They  have  pledged  themselves  to  secrecy, 
moderation,  and  submission." 

"  You  will  hardly  need,  then,  any  assistance  from  me  in 
disposing  of  your  crew1?" 

"  No,  I  require  no  aid.  The  affair  is  perfectly  simple  and 
easily  managed.  It  has  happened  more  than  once  that  the 
slaves  of  a  corsair  have  freed  themselves,  and  mastered  the 
crew,  with  no  one  to  help  them  ;  it  would  be  strange  indeed 
if  they  could  not  in  this  case,  when  they  have  the  coopera 
tion  of  the  rais  himself.  I  thank  you,  nevertheless,  for  your 
kindness  in  offering  assistance — would  that  you  were  going 
with  us." 

"  It  may  not  be,"  replied  Casbin.  "  I  am  a  son  of  the 
mountains  ;  true,  I  have  dwelt  with  the  Arabs  ;  as  when 
we  were  playmates  in  the  famous  school  of  Tadulah.  I  have 
traversed  the  lowlands,  I  have  visited  Christian  countries;  but  I 
am  a  true  son  of  the  mountains.  With  you  the  case  is  dif 
ferent  ;  you  have  never  been  wholly  a  Moor  ;  you  will  return 
to  Christian  lands;  the  habits  and  prejudices  of  your  early 

19* 


442  THE     BERBER. 

boyhood  will  spring  to  life  again  in  your  mind,  you  will  quickly 
adapt  yourself  to  your  new  modes  of  life.  No,  Hassan,  we 
must  part ;  our  paths  lie  in  different  directions ;  but  I  have  not 
drawn  you  aside  to  mourn  over  the  necessity  which  separates 

us.  We  can  very  well  live  apart 1  wish  to  speak  to  you 

of  a  separation  which  is  really  a  cause  of  grief." 

"  The  separation  of  whom '?"  demanded  Hassan,  grasping 
the  Berber's  arm. 

"  Of  these  sisters,"  calmly  replied  Casbin.  "  One  of  them 
will  go  with  you,  the  other  has  consented  to  remain  with  me — 
she  will  become  my  wife.  I  am  going  now  to  visit  the  Fathers 
of  the  convent  at  Tetuan,  and  shall  bring  one  of  them  back 
with  me.  To-night,  the  ceremony  will  be  performed  which  is 
necessary  among  Christians,  to  the  validity  of  marriage ;  and 
Juanita  will  receive  the  sanction  of  the  Church  to  her  deter 
mination  to  remain  with  me." 

"  Will  it  be  possible,  think  you,  to  persuade  a  priest  to 
venture  out  of  the  town  at  night  ?"  demanded  Hassan. 

"Trust  to  me  for  that,"  replied  Casbin.  "I  shall  not 
return  without  one.  But  I  can  offer  stronger  inducements  for 
one  to  come  if  I  can  represent  that  others  beside  myself  need 
the  services  of  the  Church." 

Hassan  started,  and  looked  at  the  speaker  inquiringly,  but 
said  nothing. 

"  You  love  the  elder  maiden,"  continued  Casbin,  placing 
his  hand  upon  Hassan's  arm  ;  "  you  purpose  marrying  her. 
Why  not  do  so  to-night  ?  If  Juanita  remains  with  me,  Isabel 
must  go  with  you  alone.  Make  her  your  wife,  and  every 
objection  vanishes.  The  opportunity  is  too  good  to  be  lost." 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  443 

Hassan  listened  with  a  thrill  of  pleasure  to  the  proposition. 
The  double  marriage  would  obviate  all  necessity  of  stopping 
at  Cadiz,  as — supposing  that  he  was  to  take  charge  of  both  of 
the  Gaditanas,  he  had  preferred  to  do — and  enable  him  to 
shape  his  course  for  England  without  delay. 

"  But  what  shall  be  done  if  Isabel  will  not  consent?" 
he  demanded. 

"  Press  her  hard  upon  the  subject :  let  her  understand 
the  reasons  for  consenting.  She  is  of  a  yielding  nature. 
She  will  not  be  able  to  resist  your  arguments  and  entreaties 
combined." 

"  But  if  she  still  refuses  ]"  queried  Hassan,  in  a  doubting 
tone. 

"  Then,"  replied  Casbin,  firmly,  "  by  right  of  the  relation 
ship  that  will  be  established  this  night  between  us,  I  shall  urge 
her  remaining  with  her  sister  and  my  wife." 

Hassan  started  to  his  feet.  A  look  of  alarm  and  anxiety 
crossed  his  face.  His  voice  expressed  the  agitation  of  his 
feelings,  as  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Go,  bring  the  priest !  She  will  consent she  must 

consent !  Go,  and  I  will  answer  for  it  that  we  are  ready  for 
the  ceremony  upon  your  return." 

Hassan  hurried  off  to  the  side  of  Isabel.  Casbin  looked 
after  him  for  a  moment,  with  a  smile  upon  his  lips,  and  then 
proceeded  to  make  some  necessary  alterations  in  his  appear 
ance  preparatory  to  his  descent  to  the  town.  His  yellow  locks 
were  gathered  up  and  secured  beneath  his  cap.  His  turban 
was  arranged  so  as  to  allow  the  loose  ends  to  fall  over  his 
face.  A  small  portion  of  coloring  powder  was  rubbed  upon 


444  THE     BERBER. 

his  light  beard  and  moustache.  Thus  disguised,  he  knew  that 
his  presence  in  Tetuan,  a  town  half  Berber  and  half  Moresco, 
would  excite  no  observatian.  At  the  head  of  three  or  four 
trusty  fellows,  who  had  orders  to  wait  for  him  outside  the 
walls,  he  led  the  way  with  a  rapid  step,  and  with  an  air  of 
confidence  that  indicated  a  familiar  acquaintance  with  the 
ground. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  445 


CHAPTER    XXXVIII 


IT  was  midnight.  A  dozen  blazing  torches  illuminated  the 
desolate  area  of  that  ancient  church,  throwing  their  flickering 
light  into  the  recesses  of  choir  and  transept,  and  upon  the 
stained  and  crumbling  walls,  and  o'er  the  wondering  faces  of  a 
crowd  of  wild  looking  Berbers  crowding  the  entrance  to  the 
roofless  nave,  and  lighting  up  the  ruins  of  the  stone  altar, 
before  which  were  grouped  the  personages  of  our  tale. 

A  shaven  priest,  dressed  in  a  coarse  gown  of  gray  serge, 
girded  by  a  hempen  cord,  stood  bareheaded  and  barefooted, 
with  book  in  hand,  before  the  kneeling  group.  His  naturally 
coarse  features  were  dignified  by  an  expression  of  stern 
and  lofty  faith — that  faith  which  has  enabled  the  church  of 
Rome  to  send  forth  in  all  ages  its  legions  of  brave  and  enthu 
siastic  ministers  of  religion  to  the  farthest  ends  of  the  earth — 
a  faith  which  alone  supported  the  few  devoted  men  composing 
the  order  of  the  Redemption,  in  their  mission  of  mercy  among 
the  Christian-hating  fanatics  of  Barbary. 

The  ceremony  was  finished  ;  and  leaning  on  their  husbands 
arms,  the  sisters  left  the  chapel.  It  had  been  arranged  that 
Hassan  should  conduct  the  party  that  night  to  the  beach, 
where  they  would  await  the  result  of  his  attempt  to  dispossess 


446  THE     BERBER. 

his  Moorish  crew  of  their  quarters  in  the  galley.  No  difficul 
ty  was  apprehended ;  but  still,  to  aid  if  necessary,  and  for 
greater  security  of  his  bride  upon  their  return,  Casbin  ordered 
his  Berbers  to  accompany  him.  The  night  was  dark,  the  path 
tortuous,"  and  before  the  beach  was  gained  the  first  faint  signs 
of  morning  began  to  show  themselves.  A  short  delay  only 
was  necessary  before  it  was  light  enough  for  Hassan's  signals 
to  be  observed  from  the  galley. 

A  boat  was  promptly  manned  and  pushed  off.  As  soon  as 
it  reached  the  shore  Hassan  sprang  into  it,  and  ordered  the 
men  to  pull  back  quickly  to  the  galley.  They  would  willing 
ly  have  stopped,  and  had  some  conversation  with  the  rais  re 
specting  his  night's  adventures  and  his  plans  for  the  future,  but 
Hassan  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  humor  them,  and  there 
was  something  in  his  looks  and  manner  that  repelled  and  re 
pressed  all  familiarity. 

As  the  boat  touched  the  side  of  the.  galley  he  spang  to 
the  deck — paused  for  a  moment  to  glance  around  upon  the 
few  Moors,  most  of  whom  were  busily  employed  on  the  fore 
castle  in  saluting  the  rising  sun  with  their  pious  prostrations 
and  mutterings — and  then  entered  the  cabin.  In  a  few  mo 
ments  he  re-appeared,  bearing  in  his  hand  several  keys.  With 
one  he  unlocked  the  rude  padlock  fastening  an  arm-chest  that 
was  lashed  to  the  foot  of  the  main-mast,  and  threw  open  the 
lid.  The  only  weapons  it  contained  were  a  number  of  service 
able  boarding  sabres,  which  from  their  shape  had  evidently 
been  intended  for  Christian  hands.  Without  pausing  he  ad 
vanced  to  a  burly,  red-faced  galley  slave,  and  unfastened  the 
chain  which  confined  him  to  his  bench. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  447 

"  The  time  has  arrived,"  said  Hassan,  in  a  low  voice,  and 
speaking  in  English.  "  Let  me  see  how  you  will  keep  youi 

pledge 1  depend  upon  you.     Take  one  of  these    swords, 

quickly  and  quietly,  and  fall  back  to  the  cabin." 

Without  hesitating  for  a  moment,  Hassan  liberated  anothei 
and  another,  giving  them  all  the  same  orders.  The  instant 
they  were  free  they  sprang  up,  seized  each  a  sword,  and 
moved  aft  to  the  cabin.  The  attention  of  the  Moors  was  by 
this  time  aroused,  but  they  were  held  motionless  and  silent  by 
surprise  and  fear,  until  Hassan  had  freed  as  many  as  he 
thought  requisite  for  his  purpose. 

There  was  a  pause;  fore  and  aft  the  galley  there  pre 
vailed  the  most  perfect  silence.  All  hands  were  waiting  the 
next  movements  of  the  rover.  The  Moors  crowded  together 
on  the  forecastle.  Hassan  advanced  to  a  position  midway  be 
tween  them  and  the  band  of  Christians,  and  in  a  loud  voice 
addressed  them :  . 

u  Down  with  your  arms,  my  men !  Obey  my  orders 
without  resistance,  and  you  will  not  be  harmed.  This  galley 
is  no  longer  a  fitting  place  for  you.  Depart,  then,  in  peace, 
and  with  God's  blessing.  There  are.  however,  a  number  of 
you  who  were  once  Christians :  if  any  renegade  chooses  to  go 
with  me,  I  can  promise  to  take  him  to  some  European  port. 
Pull  in  the  boat,  men,  and  jump  into  her.  Be  quick  about 
it !"  exclaimed  Hassan,  noticing  a  movement  among  the 
galley  slaves.  "  I  want  no  bloodshed  !" 

To  most  of  the  renegades  the  offer  of  the  rais  came  like  a 
vision  of  heaven — of  that  heaven  they  had  renounced  and 
spurned — and  they  joyfully  expressed  their  determination  of 


448  THE     BERBER. 

availing  themselves  of  the  chance  of  escaping  from  the  thral 
dom  of  El  Islam.  The  native  Moors,  in  eager  haste,  drew  up 
one  of  the  boats,  and  crowded  into  it. 

When  fairly  off,  and  pulling  in  the  direction  of  the  port, 
the  remainder  of  the  galley-slaves  were  liberated.  Hassan 
addressed  them  in  a  few  words,  exhorting  them  to  order  and 
quiet,  as  they  hoped  for  safety.  The  English  sailor  he  had 
first  liberated  he  left  in  charge  of  the  galley,  while  he  again  vi 
sited  the  shore.  A  number  of  volunteers  rushed  to  man  the 
boat,  and  Hassan  pushing  off,  turned  the  bow  in  a  direction 
at  right  angles  to  that  pursued  by  the  Moorish  crew  of  the 
galley.  The  willing  arms  of  the  liberated  galley-slaves  soon 
sent  the  boat  to  the  beach,  and  Hassan  leaped  to  the  shore  at 
a  few  yards  from  the  spot  where  stood  the  anxious  group 
awaiting  him. 

It  was  a  terrible  moment  for  the  sisters — that  moment  of 
parting ;  parting,  perhaps  never  to  see  each  other  again — cer 
tainly  not  for  a  long  interval  of  time.  A  terrible  moment ! 
Luckily  for  us,  it  occurs  just  at  the  conclusion  of  our  tale. 
Anywhere  else,  and  we  should  have  felt  compelled  to  describe 
the  scene  in  all  its  details :  the  placid  sea,  smiling  in  the  light 
of  the  morning  sun;  the  rocky  beach;  the  brown  hills;  the  Ber 
ber  guards  and  attendants,  and  the  crowd  of  wild-looking  Ree- 
fians.  We  should  have  felt  compelled  to  dwell  upon  the  af 
fection  of  the  sisters  for  each  other  ;  to  picture  the  overwhelm 
ing  anguish  of  one,  and  the  deep  but  repressed  emotion  of  the 
other.  Here,  however,  at  the  last  page  of  our  story,  we  can 
not  do  better  than  to  leave  the  whole  scene  to  the  imagination 
of  the  reader. 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  449 

But  a  short  time  could  be  permitted  for  leave-taking.  It 
was  necessary  to  reach  the  galley  before  the  Moorish  sailors, 
who  had  been  sent  ashore,  should  alarm  the  town.  Hassan 
lifted  his  weeping  bride  into  the  boat,  where  were  already 
seated  his  brother,  with  Abdallah  and  his  daughter.  He  gave 
the  word  to  the  crew ;  the  oars  dipped  into  the  water,  and  the 
boat  shot  out  from  the  land. 

Juanita  pressed  as  far  out  upon  the  rocks  as  she  could  go. 
A  jutting  ledge  screened  her  from  observation  from  the  shore. 
Casbin  was  by  her  side.  In  silence  they  watched  the  boat. 
They  saw  it  gain  the  side  of  the  galley — they  saw  its  passen 
gers  transfer  themselves  to  the  deck.  In  a  few  minutes  the 
yards  were  swayed  aloft,  the  anchor  weighed,  the  sails  trim 
med  to  the  favoring  breeze.  They  watched  in  silence  the 
swift  corsair  as  she  glided  away,  until  she  rounded  a  projecting 
point,  and  disappeared  from  their  view. 

At  the  last  glimpse  of  her  white  sail,  Juanita,  buried  her 
face  in  her  hands  and  burst  into  tears. 

"  I  shall  never  see  her  again,"  she  exclaimed,  in  reply  to 
Casbin's  soothing  caress. 

"  Say  not  so,  Juanita,"  returned  Casbin.  "  Your  corres 
pondence,  through  the  agency  of  the  mission  of  the  Redemp 
tion,  will  be  easy  and  regular ;  and  it  will  not  be  difficult  to 
make  arrangements  for  a  visit  from  her.  At  any  rate  it  will 
always  be  in  your  power  to  meet  her  upon  European  ground. 
You  shall  do  so  ere  long ;  in  the  meantime,  Juanita,  you 
have  no  one  but  me  1" 

Juanita  raised  her  eyes,  gleaming  through  her  tears  with  a 
look  of  passionate  fondness,  to  his  face.  "  I  wish  for  no  one 
else,"  she  exclaimed.  ';  Oh,  Casbin,  I  am  content !" 


450  THE     BERBER. 

"  My  life  !  my  soul !"  exclaimed  Casbin,  pressing  her  to 
his  breast.  "  It  shall  not  be  a  fault  of  mine,  if  you  are  not 
ever  so.  Oh,  Juanita,  if  my  love,  deep  as  that  sea,  pure  as 
that  sky,  and  fervid  as  that  sun,  can  content  you,  you  shall 
never  repine  !" 

"  Come,  Juanita,  let  us  to  the  hills.  If  we  rest  here  longer 
we  shall  have  the  whole  town  of  Tetuan  to  visit  us.  Come, 
queen  of  the  Mozarg,  to  your  mountain  birdj — to  your 
home  in  the  Atlas  !" 


A    TALE     OF    MOROCCO.  451 


CHAPTER   XXXIX. 


Our  story  here  properly  closes ;  but  as  the  reader,  who  has 
taken  interest  enough  to  follow  thus  far,  may,  perhaps,  feel 
some  curiosity  as  to  the  after  fortunes  of  the  principal  charac 
ters,  we  will  endeavor  to  satisfy  him  or  herein  the  fewest  pos 
sible  words. 

And  first,  of  the  soltan,  who  continued  to  live,  and  reign,  the 
centre  of  civil  and  domestic  broils  until  his  death,  in  1727. 
His  son,  the  ferocious  Muley  Sidan,  having  aroused  the 
jealousy  of  the  old  tyrant,  and  refusing  to  appear  at  court,  was 
despatched,  at  the  instigation  of  his  father,  by  his  own  women. 
The  next  in  succession,  Muley  Abdelmelec,  also  incurring 
his  father's  ire,  was  compelled  to  retire  from  the  court.  Every 
effort  was  made  to  lure  him  back  again  ;  but  finding  all  his 
efforts  to  bring  his  rebellious  son  into  his  power  unsuccessful, 
Muley  Ismael  resolved  to  alter  the  succession,  and  publicly 
proclaimed  another  son,  Muley  Hammed  Debby,  heir  to  the 
throne. 

Muley  Debby  reigned  four  years,  and  in  the  annals  of 
tyranny  there  is  not  to  be  found  another  instance  of  such  a 
monster.  The  vices  and  cruelties  of  Muley  Ismael  were  com- 


452  THE     BERBER. 

pletely  eclipsed  by  this  fiend  in  human  guise.  During  his 
short  reign  he  killed  more  than  fifteen  hundred  persons  with  his 
own  hands ;  and  besides,  a  countless  host  of  wretches  were  de 
stroyed  by  the  most  terrible  tortures.  To  him  succeeded  another 
son  of  Muley  Ismael,  Muley  Abdallah  ;  who  gave  frequent  evi 
dence  of  a  similarly  reckless  and  cruel  disposition.  In  1757  his 
son  Sidi  Hammed  Ibn  Abdallah  succeeded  him.  Hammed 
was  followed  by  his  son  Muley  Yezzed  Ibn  Hammed.  Upon 
the  death  of  Yezzed,  Muley  Soliman,  a  comparatively  mild  and 
enlightened  prince  mounted  the  throne ;  and  after  a  peaceful 
life,  was  followed  by  the  present  reigning  soltan,  Muley  Ab- 
derrhaman,  a  quiet,  common-place,  money-loving  character, 
in  no  way  entitled  to  detain  us  from  the  more  interesting 
personages  of  our  tale,  to  whom  we  will  return. 

The  rais  and  his  party  reached  England  in  safety,  where 
the  brothers  found  no  difficulty  in  substantiating  their  claims  to 
the  large  fortune  left  by  their  father.  With  as  little  delay  as 
was  consistent  with  the  administration  of  the  rites  of  baptism 
and  confirmation,  necessary  for  the  admission  of  Xaripha  into 
the  pale  of  the  English  Church,  the  Moresca  and  her  lover  were 
married.  The  brothers,  with  their  brides,  retired  to  the  coun 
try,  where  the  enthusiasm  of  love  subsiding,  as,  alas !  it  ever 
does,  let  them  down  pleasantly  upon  the  habits,  duties, 
pleasures,  friendships  and  affections  of  English  domestic  life. 
Abdallah,  with  the  mercantile  instinct  strong  within  him,  pre 
ferred  a  residence  for  the  greater  portion  of  the  year  in  the 
city.  He  had  capital,  and  great  facilities  in  his  profound 
knowledge  of  Moorish  and  Oriental  manners,  tastes  and  wants. 
He  became  a  merchant  of  note,  and  for  many  years  the 


A     TALE     OF     MOROCCO.  453 

wealthy  Mr.  Asken  bore  rank  among  the  mightiest  of  the  mer 
chant  princes  on  'change. 

It  remains  but  to  speak  of  the  Berber  and  Juanita.  To  do 
so  at  length,  to  relate  the  history  of  the  struggle  which  for 
years  the  gallant  Amekran  waged  with  the  various  obstacles 
which  offered  themselves  almost  at  every  step,  to  the  execu 
tion  of  his  designs ;  to  describe  his  romantic  adventures,  and 
his  daring  deeds,  would  be  to  write  another  book.  Suffice  it 
for  us  to  say,  that  if,  in  such  a  desperate  contest  as  that  between 
one  enlightened  man,  and  a  people,  proud,  bigoted,  ignorant  and 
moulded  in  the  prejudices  of  two  or  three  thousand  years,  the 
Berber  did  not  command  full  success,  he  at  least  labored  faith 
fully  to  deserve  it.  And  in  this  he  found,  as  he  had  expected,  a 
worthy  help-meet  in  the  generous  and  spirited  Juanita.  His 
energy  of  sou],  his  dauntless  courage,  his  noble  ambition,  re 
ceived  new  impulses  from  her  ardent  and  glowing  sympathy. 
Her  mind,  expanding  at  once  under  the  stimulus  of  passion, 
took,  in  its  full  length  and  width,  a  comprehensive  view  of  her 
relations  to  him,  of  her  duties  to  his  people.  The  adventurous 
traveller  may  in  the  present  day  find  many  evidences  of  the 
influence  which  she  exerted  among  the  Beni  Mozarg,  although 
that  tribe  has  been  divided,  scattered,  and  the  old  land-marks 
nearly  destroyed.  He  will  find  her  name  cherished  in  many 
families  of  the  Ait  Amore,  and  a  current  belief,  that  she  will 
yet  return,  with  powerful  armies  at  her  command,  to  suppress 
by  force  the  blood  feuds  of  the  Berbers,  and  drive  the  Moors 
out  of  Morocco.  A  belief  arising  from  the  fact,  that  upon  the 
death  of  Casbin,  leaving  no  son  to  succeed  him,  she  took  her 
two  daughters,  and  bidding  adieu  to  the  Atlas  for  ever,  crossed 


454  THE     BERBER. 

the  Straits  from  Tetuan  to  Gibraltar,  and  thence  to  England, 
v/here,  in  the  education  of  her  children,  the  companionship  of 
her  sister  and  Xaripha,  and  in  the  exercise  of  all  womanly 
charities  and  virtues,  she  passed  the  remainder  of  her  days. 


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